Outnumbered
by ArwenJaneLilyLyra
Summary: The truth was they were the greatest of all pranksters. The truth was they were Outnumbered. 5 girls, 4 Marauders. The truth is, life simply isn't as easy as Hogwarts makes it seem...
1. Prologue: The Sorting

_This prologue has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Disclaimer: everything that you recognise, of course, belongs to JK Rowling, and the world that she lets us visit. The rest is mine, unless stated otherwise._

_This story will be canon as much as possible. Any canon deviance will I hope still be plausible - please bear with me. Any questions, feel absolutely free to ask me - I promise to answer as fully as possible.  
_

_Reviews are very much appreciated and always responded to. Many thanks!_

* * *

**Outnumbered**

**Prologue**

They are all the same on that first day. Tall ones and short ones, fair hair and dark hair, excited and nervous, they are all the same. Indoctrinated by muggle schools, by magical families, they believe as only children can believe: with a trust that once lost can never be recaptured.

They stare with wide eleven year old eyes, up, up, up at the hat and stool and the teacher, and they are all the same.

Some are friends, but most are strangers, and it is with that free anonymity that they exchange nervous smiles, respectful nods, and yes, the occasional glare. They will grow and they will learn, both in and out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, no different from the founders, really.

They are all the same.

**Sirius**

"Black, Sirius," crowed the Deputy Headmistress, whose name was Professor McGonagall. Her stern eyes watched the young boy nod to a friend by his side and walk up the steps with an air of smug confidence that was not reflected in his wary, shifting eyes. He winced as the hat was placed on his head, as if expecting to be burnt. Thankfully, however, he wasn't, and he smiled nervously, feeling the eyes of the cross looking woman upon him as he waited.

The House of Slytherin craned their necks in unison.

Among the robes adorned with silver and green sat a fifth year girl, her silvery blonde hair perfectly straight but for a small curl close to her pale cheek. Her eyes, a passionate, cerulean blue, watched the boy fiercely, as if her stare alone would be enough to snatch him from the stool and bring him safely to her side; her napkin could very well set on fire and she wouldn't have blinked.

The boy appeared to be avoiding her eyes, though, and he flinched ever so slightly when a voice abruptly muttered in his head.

"Well, aren't you just a tricky little thing?"

Sirius fought hard to hide his shock. He pressed his lips together and kept his eyes firmly on the closed oak doors at the other side of the room, hoping desperately that he didn't look _too _much like he wanted to run right through them.

Orion Black had always had a knack for masking his emotions with a blank stare. Cold and uncompromising, Sirius had always hoped his father's Mask was hereditary, but almost twelve years of practice had thus far proved otherwise. The wise old croak of the hat's voice had taken him by surprise, and his own Mask slipped with a sharp gasp.

"I suppose," Sirius agreed, unsure what to say to a talking hat that was currently perusing intrusively through his mind.

"Now, tradition dictates that I should put you in Slytherin…" Sirius felt a flutter of panic and for a moment he had to fight the urge to shout '_no!_' to the silent crowd of students. A blush stained his slender cheeks. "Hold on a minute, boy, I haven't decided yet!" the hat scolded, and Sirius sniggered uneasily. For a brief second there was silence. Then the hat spoke again, clinical, almost monotonous.

"You're far too lazy to be a Hufflepuff. No, not a Ravenclaw. Well, if you're so against Slytherin, and I agree there is really no place for you there…yes, I see now. That leaves only…GRYFFINDOR!"

A silence as cold as the shiver that ran through Sirius' chest stilled every breath in the Great Hall.

Sirius was sure that from all the way across the room he could feel the icy wrath of his cousin, Narcissa, chilling him acutely. And then, as he glanced down at the collection of first years, seeking out a friendly face, one boy jumped high off the ground and punched the air in exultation. A wordless shout of glee escaped his lips, soon followed by an uproar of hysterical laughter and cheering as the shocked Gryffindors welcomed their _Stolen Black._

Sirius jogged heartily down the steps to his house, but as he skidded towards his new house table he caught the eyes of a girl stood among the first years. Cold, appraising fury carved lines into her face, eyebrows raised and jaw tight.

Pushing his concern at her glare to one side, Sirius returned the thumbs up James was giving him with a grin, feeling undeniably grateful for such a friend. This was going to be a good seven years, he could feel it.

**Wendy**

"Dorrington, Winifred."

_Wendy_, the girl corrected in her head as the ratty talking hat was dropped onto her dark mop of hair.

In the short silence that followed Wendy felt panic and humiliation stain her cheeks bright red. Her fears were confirmed: she wasn't magical enough…she was going to be sent away...and her parents had been so proud to discover there was a witch in the family…

"My, my, what a stressful young head we have here, eh?" the hat asked, and Wendy sighed in relief. Perhaps she wasn't going to be sent home after all.

"Hmm," hummed the hat. "You seem to have the independence of a Ravenclaw, but you lack the confidence to be sure of what you know. Hufflepuff would very suitable…"

"Don't just dump me there!" she whispered pleadingly. She had overheard two of the boys – one of them being the one with the charming smile whom the green and silver table had made such a fuss over not getting – talking about the sorting whilst they were on the boats, and had been horribly rude about the sorts of people who were placed there.

"Don't fret, I never _just dump _someone in a house. What about Gryffindor? You're not the bravest of souls, but you're loyal and there is a certain strength in you, hidden deep. You'd do well there…"

"Are you sure?" the girl asked in a hopeful voice, the nervous fluttering in her stomach calming as anticipation swelled inside her. The hat made a strange, humming sound of assent, and its booming voice echoed around the hall. Applause erupted from the red and gold table, accompanied by a rippling cheer that brought out her bashful nature, and much to her embarrassment she let out a loud giggle of pride and excitement.

**Lily**

"Evans, Lily."

The redheaded girl walked slowly up the stairs, concentrating very hard on not falling down. The hat bounced lightly on the crown of her head, and she closed her eyes to the world after glancing momentarily at Severus, who smiled and waved shyly.

"Oh, very interesting my dear. Very interesting indeed."

Lily opened her eyes in a flash and glanced around the room, hoping very much that nobody else could hear this. _Did the hat talk to everybody like this?_

She drummed her clammy fingers against the sides of the stool as she contemplated which would be the most desirable house to be placed in. She cast her gaze swiftly over the room, skimming over the curious faces and finally settling on the green and silver table. A devouring silver serpent was embroidered into their green flag, and it was clear that this was the house Severus had described as his dream choice.

A crease pulled in her brow as she wondered at that. They all looked like they were, for want of a better phrase, a relatively unpleasant bunch. Not any less physically attractive than the rest, but something in their expression expressed uninviting danger. What was Sev , sweet, kind Sev _thinking_, wanting to become one of them?

"You have the mind of a Ravenclaw, my dear, but for some reason I feel it will not do to put you there," the hat informed her contemplatively.

Lily listened attentively, her wide, emerald eyes roaming the crowds as a few more seconds ticked by. She caught the gaze of that horrible boy who had been so rude to Sev on the train. He was staring up at her along with every other occupant of the room, but his attention kept being drawn away from the sorting as he turned to grin at his equally horrid friend, who was already sitting comfortably with the Gryffindors.

"No, only one place for you. I see now, that mind; that _temper! _You can only be…GRYFFINDOR!"

Applause erupted for the third time at the red and gold table, and Lily beamed as she all but danced her way to her new house table, sitting herself down comfortably opposite the boy called Sirius Black, whom she recognised from the train. He attempted to speak to her, no doubt hoping to say something he thought terribly clever, but she paid no attention to him. Instead she waved meekly at Severus Snape, whose expression was one of badly concealed disappointment.

**Lizzie**

"Harding, Elizabeth."

The girl with soft blonde hair that was tied in a tight ponytail walked slowly up to the stool where she sat awkwardly, shoulders a little hunched, her pale green eyes wide as she waited to be sorted.

"How strange! Such a Gryffindor, but there's a seed of a serpent in you that is most fascinating. I am quite tempted to put you there. Something tells me you could become something great in that house, and I am never wrong…"

Lizzie felt her lips part in a sharp gasp. Her family had, for the most part, been a long line of Ravenclaws, and so very little out of the ordinary ever happened in the Harding household that she had expected little else. But now a strange bubble of something alike to pride flared in her chest at the prospect of being a Slytherin. It was, after all, known for its selectivity; the thought of being singled out as one of the few worthy of such a place filled her with a tickling sense of honour.

"Oh yes, you'd do perfectly well there. But your heart is soft; your emotions rule you, easily manipulated and exploited."

"That's not so bad!" Lizzie hissed, and her irritation grew as the hat chuckled condescendingly.

"I do not claim it to be good _or_ bad, child. But I wonder if you could be truly happy in Slytherin-"

"How do you know? Not everyone's the same, you know!" she spoke in a harsh whisper, her voice wavering with hurt.

"I have been sorting children into houses for hundreds of years, my dear, and I have never been wrong yet. Which is why I choose…GRYFFINDOR!"

Lizzie smiled sweetly at the myriad of cheers for her as she took the seat between Lily Evans and an older student, fighting the regret that simmered beneath her joy. She accepted the pat on the back from the redhead to her right with a grateful smile, refusing to let her eyes stray to the green and silver table at the other end of the room.

**Remus**

"Lupin, Remus."

Remus kept his eyes to the ground as he made his way to the stool, fiddling nervously with the collar of his robes to make sure his right collar bone was completely covered all the way up to his neck. The hat's voice spoke from the moment it touched his head.

"I see where you are to be placed at once, boy. A werewolf? You are braver than ten men to come here, with all your fears and the dangers you face."

Shock seized Remus' heart in an iron claw, and unconsciously his hand travelled to trace the deep scars a little to the right of his neck, where the collar bone was still crooked and the skin scarred and raw, despite the years that had passed since the incident.

"You think?" the boy asked in a small voice, feeling far from brave as tears clung to the corners of his eyes, his breaths rattling in his chest and his fingers trembling.

"Of course I do, you are strong to be so young and bear so much. As true a Gryffindor as any I have seen."

Though much softer than the hoarse shout of his chosen house that followed, the words deafened Remus, ringing through his ears and causing a wobbly smile to brighten his tired face considerably. He felt lighter and happier than he had done in months. _Y__ears_, even. Not only was he at Hogwarts, but the sorting hat had said he was _brave_.

It wasn't until he felt the clap of the only other Gryffindor first year boy on his back that Remus noticed he was sitting at the red and gold table. He let the truest grin to appear on his face in years remain bright, laughing with the other first years at the table.

He was home.

**India-Rose**

"Norrell, India-Rose."

India-Rose let a smile grace her lips as she took her seat on the stool, facing the crowd of students before her, suddenly much more secure than she had felt stood in the line of waiting eleven year olds.

"You seem very sure of yourself, my dear," the hat commented lightly, and India-Rose nodded frankly. "Well, I cannot see much to disagree with you on. You are no Slytherin, and neither are you a Ravenclaw; Hufflepuff, perhaps, if you had a little more patience, but you are too wild and carefree to belong there. I take it you were sure of yourself before you were called up here?"

The girl nodded again, enthusiastic and unabashed.

"I see," the hat said delicately, "but take care not to be too sure of yourself; humility is as true a virtue as confidence….GRYFFINDOR!"

India-Rose contemplated the hat's words as she beamed proudly. She took her place beside the boy called Remus, and wondered whether it was the norm for the hat to give free advice on such matters.

For a moment she considered asking one of the others if they had been told anything similar, but thought the better of it. Experience had taught her that some things were best left be, and India-Rose, though not the most discreet of people, knew better than to push her luck

**Peter**

"Pettigrew, Peter."

The boy stumbled half way up the stairs and felt his face flood with colour as he sat clumsily on the stool, expecting to turn and see everyone laughing at him. But to his surprise, very few people were. In fact, the loud boy with the ready grin who had chatted to anyone and everyone along with his friend Sirius Black even went as far as to smile encouragingly at him, and Peter felt breathlessly grateful for the gesture.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" the voice that Peter assumed was the hat's asked, and Peter closed his eyes in fear, repeating the same thought over and over again.

"Oh I wouldn't worry," the hat reassured him lightly, "you have ambition and eagerness, but you lack cunning and power. No, I see no place for you in Slytherin."

Relief brought a smile to Peter's face. Shy and tentative, but a smile nonetheless.

Eleven years of living with his Slytherin mother whom he feared far more than he loved had brought a dislike of the green and silver house to his mind from an early age. He couldn't bear to think of himself as a Slytherin, and grow to be like his mother, cold and uncaring. He would sooner have been a Gryffindor, as much to spite the woman as to prove himself better than her.

"Gryffindor, eh? I don't know about that," the hat said firmly. "A surprising choice, I must say."

Disappointment robbed the smile that had been growing on his face, and Peter looked away from the crowd of students and down to his knees.

"Not to say there is no chance," the hat encouraged. "If you truly believe you belong there, you are not wholly unsuited. In truth, you are far more likely to succeed as a Gryffindor than as a Slytherin…if you're sure it's what you want…"

"Y-Yes!" Peter murmured under his breath.

"Very well then, I am not one to go against so strong a desire. Perhaps things will turn out for the better this way…GRYFFINDOR!"

As the crowds cheered for him, Peter was close to throwing his arms in the air with joy. He jogged to his table, nearly falling again but not caring about the sniggers as he collapsed onto the bench beside the girl with blonde hair and a gentle smile whose name he vaguely remembered was Elizabeth.

He nodded to himself, bolstered by the applause. He would not be the same as his mother; he could feel it.

**James**

"Potter, James."

It was the Gryffindors' turn to sit up just a little straighter.

Cocky grin comfortably in place and chest stuck out to make himself feel all the more important, James jogged up the steps excitedly. He was in no doubt as to where he would be placed. All his life he'd been told over and over again, how he was such a balanced mixture of his mother and father and, seeing as they were both Gryffindors themselves, his confidence was all but a physical presence surrounding him as he swaggered to the stool and plonked himself down.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted within a few seconds, and for a moment, though elated by the tumultuous roars of approval from his house, he paused, considering the announcement.

_That didn't take very long,_ he thought to himself, and was about to whip the hat from his head when a snide reply came from the hat that made him hesitate.

"Well there's not really much else to be said on the matter, boy. You don't belong anywhere else." And though he felt this should have only boosted his pride further, even more than the applause and attention he was receiving, the way the hat had spoken made the smile on his face falter just a little.

He had known he was all Gryffindor, and was filled with enough arrogance to be sure he belonged nowhere else. But hearing it said aloud by someone else, albeit a battered old hat, made the words sound slightly less praise worthy. It was as though instead of pointing out to him his worthiness as a member of Godric Gryffindor's house, the hat was quietly explaining to him that he was welcome nowhere else.

He didn't know whether or not he liked that thought, and as he returned Sirius' high five, scooting along to accept the handshakes of a few of the other older students who were almost excited as his friend, a sense of loneliness crept over James Potter's mind.

He shrugged the creeping shiver away as best as he could. He was where he belonged, and that was all that mattered.

**Juliette**

"Swindon, Juliette."

Juliette bunched her mass of dark chocolate curls to one side of her neck in self conscious embarrassment as she sat down delicately on the stool, shrinking beneath the hat as it was placed on the crown of her head. She stared directly at the red and gold table, unable at first to tear her eyes away from the boy with shaggy black hair and glittering grey eyes.

_The boy who should have been a Slytherin, _she thought to herself angrily.

"Now, now, another person who seems to belong in one place only. You are even more determined to be a Gryffindor than you are right for the place," the hat said briskly. "Which does not surprise me; resentment such as your own for the Slytherin house is rarely found in anywhere but…GRYFFINDOR!"

Juliette let the grin widen on her face, her eyes finally relieved of the grim pain that resided in them, replaced with happiness and merriment. She took the seat beside the girl she recognised from the train – Lily Evans, she recalled though they had thus far exchanged only friendly smiles – and was grateful of the welcoming pat on the back she received from the redhead.

For a moment her eyes flashed to the boy sat almost directly opposite her, but forced her attention to turn to his friend, James Potter, who smiled and waved. She reciprocated the gesture, and eagerly leaned over the table to high five the boy.

"Good going, Swindon," the boy praised excitedly.

"Same to you, Potter," she grinned.

She had been relieved the first time she realised she would already have a friend at Hogwarts when she first arrived, albeit one known only through family acquaintances. They had enjoyed many a long afternoon talking amicably about Hogwarts and Quidditch. The boy was kind and excitable, and Juliette was glad of his company.

In fact, for a moment it seemed as if James was going to further their conversation, but then his attention was claimed once more by Sirius Black, who was hooting with laughter, and Juliette's anger returned, prickling in her eyes until she started up a conversation with the redheaded Lily, who seemed no more impressed by the pair than the dark haired girl was with Black.

Juliette forced herself to ignore the two boys sat no more than a foot away, desperate to block out the knowledge that she would be spending the next seven years in the company of Sirius Black.


	2. A Summers' Difference

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**1. A Summers' Difference**

_**Of lateness, motorbikes, and The One Hundred And One Perfections Of Lily Evans.**_

The date was the first of September, the time was ten fifty-eight, and James Potter and Sirius Black were nowhere in sight.

Remus cast his gaze up and down Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and could see Peter doing something similar a little further away, but the missing half of the Marauders were not to be found. He sighed, feeling a rush of compassion for Lily Evans, who looked as though she was going to be sick with anxiety.

She had taken the news of James' position as Head Boy relatively well, all things considered; it seemed she had more faith in the young man than she let on. But as the angry flush in her cheeks slowly spread across her face, emerald eyes narrowed to danger point, Remus couldn't help but think that all hope for James' redemption in the eyes of his supposed _future wife_ was officially lost forever.

"Remus!" he turned around to see that the dark haired India-Rose stood beside the Head Girl was beckoning to him, and he obliged with a nervous sigh.

"Yes? And before you ask, do you think I would be stood here so idly if I had any inclination as to where my friends were?"

India-Rose stared at him blankly for a few moments before, never being one to waste words, she asked him bluntly, "Could you not have just told me you don't know where they are? _Really_?"

Remus shrugged, a smile playing on his lips that soon turned into a bemused grin as three more girls jogged up to meet them, Peter tagging along behind them and sidling in to stand next to his friend.

"Not on the train. We were screaming the whole place down and we didn't see anything of them."

They all glanced up at the clock that now read ten fifty-nine, and Lily's cheeks darkened several shades.

"You had them _all _out looking for them?" Remus asked, and Lily nodded in a distracted manner. They were the only students left on the platform, and a great deal of faces were pressed to windows, pointing in confusion at the seventh years still outside, stood among teary eyed parents who were frantically waving goodbye.

"He's the bloody Head Boy! I thought maybe he would have matured over summer, even just a _little _bit! Especially if Dumbledore has decided he's worthy of being a role model of the school. But no. Apparently he'd rather go backwards."

Remus couldn't help notice the disappointment in Lily's voice, closer to deflated hope than the sort of anticipated annoyance she usually displayed regarding one James Potter.

"It'll be Black's fault," another of the girls muttered darkly.

"When is it _not_ Sirius' fault in your eyes, Juliette?" Peter asked, not quite flinching as Juliette threw him an irritated glare.

"When is it not_ actually_ his fault?" she retorted sharply.

She looked ready to continue, but at that moment the whistle blew and doors began to shut.

"No time to argue, get on!" India-Rose shouted, keeping a firm grip on the open door so that the others could hastily clamber aboard.

As Remus stepped up onto the train, he glanced back to see two tall figures running from the gateway between the muggle and wizarding stations, their trunks charmed to follow them, and he shook his head as the pair of young men were grabbed by two angry young women and hauled on board, not two seconds before the door was snapped shut. A breathless James looked mildly excited by the fact that _the_ Lily Evans was dragging him by the shirt, whereas despite being out of breath, Sirius continued to struggle against Juliette's forceful hand.

"Let's save it for a few minutes, shall we?" Lizzie asked, and together the nine Gryffindors walked, two of the young men staggering slightly, chests heaving and legs wobbling towards the compartment at the end of the train that was, luckily, only a few doors down.

Once inside, their trunks packed into the shelves above their heads, they sat, the girls on one side and boys on the other. At least the guilty pair had the decency to look ashamed of themselves, if nothing else. As the stony silence stretched on, the scenery flying past the window in a whirl of colours and blurry shapes, Remus watched out of the corner of his eye as James opened his mouth to speak, and felt a sudden urge to kick his friend, but decided against it; there was always the chance he would say something rational and leaning towards apologetic…

"You look lovely today, Lily."

The tension broke with a snap so violent, Remus was surprised they hadn't been able to hear it.

Sniggers erupted from Sirius, who doubled over in a failed attempt to hold in his amusement. Lizzie let out a hoot of glee, soon stifled when Juliette elbowed her in the ribs. James let an innocent smile spread across his lips as the seconds ticked by without Lily either screaming at him or slapping him around the head. Peter hid his mouth behind a clenched knuckle, while Wendy and India-Rose seemed to be biting their lips together in an effort to appear irritated as opposed to amused. Even Remus had to work to keep a straight expression, whilst Sirius let his laughs grow louder, tears of mirth glittering in his eyes. Only Lily and Juliette were able to keep their expressions unimpressed, their eyes narrowing, although Juliette clenched her fists into her stomach to keep herself from smiling.

"He's right. Absolutely stunning, Evans dear," Sirius commented playfully, and at this Elizabeth too lost control, covering her mouth but unable to silence her giggles. Even Lily's lips twitched for the briefest of moments, but the anger was back so quickly no-one could be sure if she had smiled at all.

"What happened?" the redhead asked, and together Padfoot and Prongs stared innocently back at her. They shrugged in unison.

"Tell me, Potter!" Lily snapped, and both boys flinched.

"We were attacked by Death Eaters," James said quickly.

When it was clear this was not going to work, Sirius cut in.

"We were confronted by an escaped Dragon."

When _'we ran into Voldemort'_ and _'we found the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and have become members'_ also failed to receive the desired effect, they settled for the truth.

"We were shopping."

"Stop fooling around!" Lily shouted, throwing her arms into the air in frustration. "This isn't funny, you two,"

"We're not!" they both protested. "Ok, so technically we were only shopping from eight until eight-thirty, but the _reason_ we were late was sort of a by-product of the actual shopping, so…" James stopped talking at the resolute disbelief in Lily's pursed lips, settling for another of his _I'm-innocent-don't-hit-me smiles, _an expression that was becoming increasingly common on his face.

"What were you buying?" Lizzie asked, much to the delight of Sirius and James, and much to the disgrace of the other girls. Remus, still trying to grasp the concept of his two best friends _shopping_, was glad someone had asked.

"A mmphmmmphph," James replied, hazel eyes darting to Lily and back again.

"Sorry, don't think I've ever heard of a mmphmmmphph before. Care to elaborate?" India-Rose asked, giving up all pretences of disinterest.

"No, look, we're going to be late! Potter, prefect meeting, now! Hurry up!" Lily jumped out of her seat, extracting her robes from her trunk as Remus, James and India-Rose followed suit. She grabbed the boy sat opposite her by the arm, dragging him out. James, eyes glowing, simply stared in wonder at the hand gripping his elbow as he allowed himself to be pulled out of the compartment by the frantic redhead.

"But we haven't even found out what they were buying yet!" India-Rose called after the pair in regret as she and Remus, Gryffindor's seventh year prefects, followed casually behind. "Do you know?" she asked the sandy haired boy by her side eagerly, to which Remus replied he did not.

"I haven't seen them for the past few days. I spent a lot of time at James' house in the summer, but I went home for the last bit to keep my dad happy. He said he didn't want me to ignore him completely all summer."

"Hmm," India-Rose replied thoughtfully, looping her arm around Remus' so they were walking shoulder to shoulder. "How was your summer?"

"Not too bad," Remus answered lightly. "Spent a lot of it listening to Quidditch strategies James is considering trying with the team. He's obsessed with winning this year, even though they did last year. Something about it being his last year and 'proving a point'. But this is James we're talking about, so it's any fools' guess as to what point he's actually trying to make. He's already won once, for Merlin's sake."

India-Rose laughed appreciatively, agreeing whole heartedly with her friend.

"What about you?" Remus asked, and the girl let out a reluctant sigh, running a hand through her dark hair and tugging at the knots.

"Oh, same old, same old; I had to stay with my dad for two weeks. He's got a new girlfriend, who obviously doesn't know about magic. So I spent a whole fortnight agreeing with her that some band called _Babba_ is all very well, but second rate when it comes to some other group about bugs. It was so boring!" she groaned and rested her head on Remus' shoulder in defeat.

"Okay, are you sure you don't mean Abba? And they're called The Beatles," he explained.

"Abba, Babba, same thing to me," India-Rose muttered, "And who names they're band The Beetles? Now that's weird."

"It's spelt B-E-A, not B-E-E, Indy dear," Remus chuckled, and India-Rose slapped his arm.

"It's not Indy! Do I call you _Ree-Ree_? No. I call you by your name. It's India-Rose, Remus, I answer to that only."

"As stubborn as ever, I see," and when the girl did nothing more than nod, Remus continued, "It's just…India-Rose is a bit of a mouthful during normal conversation, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, what a shame," she sighed sarcastically, stepping into the final compartment, inside which sat the Head Boy and Girl. Apparently James had found his voice, and was using it at close to full volume, trying to be heard over the famous Evans rant that was being bellowed in his face.

"- choice what we do, it's not like it affects _your_ life –"

"- set an example like that you put a bad face on Gryffindors –"

"- getting into trouble. We won't show anyone, it's just –"

"- stripped of your role. Is that what you want? You can't expect –"

"- a dream. We're still in school! It's your own problem if –"

"- me who'll get dragged down with you. I won't stand for –"

"Will you both shut up!" India-Rose sighed irritably, and they both turned to glare at her indignantly.

"It's not my fault!" they shouted back simultaneously, at which James looked highly amused, and Lily mortified.

"I don't care _who_ started it, Aunty India-Rose is going to finish it. Not drop it the pair of you, you're acting like five year olds." She flopped down onto a chair between the angry pair before turning to James once more. "Now _please _tell me what you bought!" she demanded, and James proudly smirked at Lily as he replied, his voice thick as cream with smug satisfaction.

"A motorbike."

* * *

Just as India-Rose let out her first hoot of delight at the news of James and Sirius' prize, Juliette Swindon crossed her arms tight across her puffed out chest to conclude her accusing rant, which had not been received well by Sirius, who glared coldly across the compartment at her with a dark glower.

"Are you finished, Swindon?" Sirius asked coolly.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Juliette grumbled.

"Good, because I think you've given me a headache," he snapped, folding his arms crossly sniffing in the direction of the window, outside of which blurred green fields and murky blue skies.

There was a brief pause of silence, in which the remaining seventh year Gryffindors all tried their best to think of something to say, but could not. Sirius watched as Juliette tucked a lock of her chocolate coloured curls behind her ear, and resentment flooded through him. What right did she have to dictate what he was or was not allowed to spend his money on? No doubt James had endured a similar lecture from Evans, but knowing Prongs, _he_ had probably enjoyed his telling off.

"What took you so long if you bought it so early in the morning?" Lizzie asked desperately.

"Liz!" Juliette cried, betrayed. Lizzie simply shrugged, blunt and innocent, and Sirius smiled gratefully as he winked at the blonde.

"Well," Sirius began, annoyance dispelled and replaced with his most charming smile. "We had nowhere to put it, because Prongs' parents would have confiscated it, and there was nowhere easy to hide it. So…we've got it with us! It's in my trunk. We've been spending the morning magically enhancing it, and then we did so much to it we couldn't shrink it, so we had to expand the inside of my trunk even more. Turns out we're not as good at charms as we thought; we nearly blew the whole thing up trying to force it in."

"Finally realised the extent of your incompetence have you, Black?" Juliette asked snidely.

"You know what; just stay the hell out of the conversation, Swindon. Your thoughts on this subject are not recognised as opinions. So go back to…whatever it is you do when you're not nagging me."

"_Anyway_," Lizzie cut in when Juliette opened her mouth to retort. "Remember the deal? You two are going to stay out of each others' hair. Mature adults," she stated firmly, receiving only mutinous grumbles from both parties.

"Who elected you as peacemaker of the group?" Wendy asked, sounding highly amused, at which both Juliette and Sirius began their usual objections to the word _group_, given that they were _quite clearly two different, distinguishable groups, not to be bound together under a unanimous title_. "Oh give up, the pair of you!" Wendy muttered in an uncharacteristically irritated voice. Neither looked in the least bit apologetic, but had the courtesy to cease their bickering under her command.

"So, how was everyone's summers?" Peter asked in an attempt to start the flow of conversation that, with the exception of Miss Swindon and Mr Black, was generally easy and comfortable between all of Gryffindor's new seventh year students.

"Mine was perfectly fine, thank you," Wendy replied, "Though I did have the strangest dream about the four Muppets."

"The four what?" Sirius demanded.

"She means you lot, Black," Juliette replied sweetly, and for once Sirius ignored her, turning his attention to Wendy instead.

"Was it one of your _dream_ dreams?" he asked eagerly, at which Wendy nodded a little shyly. "Anything we want to know?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the girl blushed, shaking her head fervently. Sirius looked mildly disappointed, and it was clear his interest levels had dropped considerably. Until, that is, Wendy informed him of the true nature of her dream.

"Something awful had happened, like a horrible accident or something, and we thought _you_ were going to die!" she looked genuinely scared, concerned by the evident excitement in Sirius' eyes.

"_Me_?" Sirius prodded his own chest incredulously.

Wendy nodded furiously, although whether she was concerned by the memory of her dream, or the fact Sirius looked so terribly excited by the prospect of nearly dying was unclear.

"And then what?" he begged, and Peter looked torn between whether to try and look as thrilled as his friend, or friendly concern. Juliette merely snorted loudly, earning herself an impatient glare from both Wendy and Sirius.

"Oh come off it," Lizzie scoffed, "They're _dreams_. I'm sorry, Wendy, honey, but they are." Her words were laced with patronising humour, and she didn't sound sorry at all. Wendy glanced at her own interlocked fingers resting in her lap for a moment before returning her gaze to her friend.

"I know you don't believe me, Liz, but Professor Simms himself said he believed at least some of them were true visions. He said I have all the makings of a Seer and that-"

"Yes, yes, that's very good. What happened?" Sirius interrupted, leaning forward eagerly.

"Oh, you didn't die in the end, but there was a really big row and everyone was all over the place because of it," she finished simply, at which Sirius let out a groan of frustration, and Peter looked relieved.

"Wow, Dorrington, you sure know how to tell a story," Sirius said, his words sharp with sarcasm. For a moment Wendy looked ready to retort, but settled for a nonchalant shrug as she moved away to watch the untamed wilderness of the scenery flying past the window.

"Well, there's nothing to complain about my summer," Lizzie said cheerfully, chasing away the tension with a sunny grin. "Mum and dad spent most of it away visiting relatives. They tried to get me to come along. Ha! They claimed _experience_ _of international wizarding cultures would be most beneficial for my education when I go into the Ministry_, but in the end I managed to convince them that at seventeen I could look after myself.

"I stayed with Lil for a week though. I swear her sister gets worse and worse every time I meet her! She was so rude to poor Lily and didn't eat a meal with us once while I was there. Apparently she's very fond of some new fellow. Dursley, I think his name is. She met him on a train to London with some friends. Can you imagine it? A ghastly creature like her going out to the capital with _friends_! It's a shame she didn't get lost forever, really. It's impossible to believe our Lily has a sister that's such a prude snob. How she survives I have no idea." Lizzie shook her head in wonder, sighing dramatically at the vexing situation of their friend's family.

"Well, Evans can sit a little too high on her horse sometimes herself, I'd say," Sirius observed with a cocked eyebrow, earning a disapproving scowl from Juliette and gasps from the other two girls. Even Peter looked shocked by his fellow Marauder.

"Who are you to talk?" Juliette snapped. "Strutting around with your smirking and your flirting and hexing at every turn. No regard for those around you at all-"

"Hey, I never claimed to be _better_! I was merely pointing out that even a straight O achieving, rule abiding Head Girl has her faults like the rest of us common folk." His tone was defensive, and his words directed solely at the girl with dark chocolate curls who looked doubtful. Lizzie and Wendy, on the other hand, seemed pacified.

"Well don't let James hear you say that," Lizzie warned with a chuckle. "Or you'll wake up to find _The One Hundred and One Perfections Of Lily Evans_ list stuck to your forehead with a Permanent Sticking Charm."

At this Sirius let out a barking laugh, his dark grey eyes alight with glee, and when he turned to Peter his fingers danced in his lap with mischief.

"What?" Peter asked, and Sirius snickered at his distrusting, nervous tone.

"I think it's time, Petey-boy," Sirius announced cryptically.

"Already?" the smaller boy gasped, looking abruptly eager.

Lizzie let out a loud _harrumph _of frustration. "What in the name of Merlin are you going on about?" she demanded.

But Padfoot and Wormtail merely shook their heads in unison, twin grins spreading on their faces.

"I don't think we really _want_ to know," Juliette said, amused in spite of her previous annoyance.

"Oh you probably do…but we're not going to tell you!" Peter hooted with mirth.

Together the two boys made to vacate the compartment without another word of explanation, and Sirius stopped at the door only to say- "If Prongsie returns, just tell him we're doing urgent Maraudering business."

And with that they scuttled out of sight, heads knocking together as they whispered furiously.

"What do you suppose they're doing?" Lizzie asked sulkily, still watching the door of the compartment, not even attempting to conceal what part of Sirius Black's anatomy she had paid keen attention to as he left.

"Knowing Sirius, it probably can't be good," Wendy said with a smile somewhere between fondness and disregard.

Juliette remained silent, her head turned aside to follow the line of trees speeding past.

* * *

In the end, _Prongsie_ did not return to the compartment before the end of the journey. Neither, much to the dismay of Elizabeth, Winifred and Juliette, did India-Rose or Lily. And so they were forced to leave without them, craning their necks and squinting to try and discern their two friends among the swelling crowd, but to no avail. As they approached the carriages, however, they were met by the sight of two people stood in their robes; arms folded crossly and eyes pointedly staring away from one another.

"Oh dear, this can't be good," Juliette sighed and quickened her pace, choosing to stand between the Head Boy and Girl in a futile attempt to ease the tension rolling between the pair. "What're we waiting for, Lil?"

"You need to get a different carriage, Jules," Lily said, her voice agitated. "The Head Boy and Girl have to ride in the first carriage together. It's tradition, apparently."

Lizzie nodded, hurrying away before either of the two sulking figures could see her amusement, but Wendy and Juliette paused to offer the Head Boy and Girl friendly waves (including an encouraging pat on the back for the redhead from both of them, and a thumbs up for James from Juliette). Once alone again, as milling students finally began to slam shut the doors of their carriages, James stepped aside to allow Lily to enter first. He even reached up to help her as she clambered inelegantly inside, but removed his hand hastily when it became clear it was in danger of being slapped away.

They proceeded in silence towards the castle, Lily curling and uncurling her toes along in time to the clenching of her fists, James drumming his fingers against his lap in a surprisingly soothing rhythm.

"Did you hear about the accommodations?" James asked lightly, eyes flickering nervously to Lily, who shook her head. "You weren't told?"

"No, should I have been?" Lily asked, her eyes dark with panic.

"Well, Head Boy and Girl have to share a separate common room with their own private dormitories and everything!" James explained, turning to face the girl with an open expression.

Lily stared at the boy, overwhelmed with horror at the prospect of spending a year holed up with him. Her lips were beginning to tremble with hysteria, but as she watched, a corner of his mouth quivered, holding back a smirk. Resisting the urge to smack him around the face, Lily smiled sweetly and sidled up to James a little closer.

"Well," she said coyly, her voice low and dangerous. "I guess it will be a chance for us to..._get to know_ one another a little better, won't it?" she asked, eyes flashing suggestively as her hand rested on his knee. James swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a blush staining his cheeks as a hopeful grin started to appear. Lily almost felt sorry for the poor guy.

"Err…yeah, um, yeah it…it will," he said, eyes wide as he cleared his throat several times, hand reaching up as if to either run his fingers through is hair, or pull a little at his collar. He appeared to be in half a mind to place his own hand on top of Lily's, but the redhead couldn't hold back her grin any longer, and she snorted loudly. James' face fell, but his disappointment turned to rueful, sarcastic acceptance surprisingly smoothly. He rolled his eyes and shrugged to himself.

"Potter, that's the most ridiculous notion I've ever heard! The founders of Hogwarts would _never_ have created such a rule. I mean, for a start, how would the common room be decorated if the two heads were from different houses? And are you telling me it gets redecorated _every year_ depending on who gets Head Boy and Girl? Not a chance, Potter, not a chance in hell." Lily shook her head firmly, and James nodded apologetically.

"Yeah, but you have to admit, for a split second you believed me, didn't you?" he asked, and Lily could not deny him that one small victory.

"Yes, I did. But only briefly!" she clarified, pouting as he hooted with delight.

"How cool would it be though?" he asked, "You know, getting somewhere to ourselves. I mean, it would be like we-"

"Lived together?" Lily finished in a bored tone, and James' eyes were distant with longing as he nodded. "Oh yeah, sure Potter. I can just imagine it. Attempted murder every other day, no doubt. Can you imagine if they had curfews, and we weren't even allowed out? We wouldn't last a few hours without going barmy."

They stared at one another for a moment, two familiar strangers with a long year of partnership stretching out before them. They stared, and simultaneously, quite abruptly, chuckling erupted from their lips. Sniggers melted into laughter, and they shared smiles like secrets, intimate and binding. But it did not last. Lily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and flicked her gaze to the boy at her side, only to see him gazing at her like a lost puppy dog.

"Oh for heaven's sakes, Potter. I wish you'd stop looking at me like that," she grumbled irritably.

"Like what?" James asked, empty hands raised in innocence.

"Like _that_! We were actually enjoying a perfectly decent conversation, and then you go and ruin it with your…your…" James raised his eyebrows, smirking. Lily decided against another fight, eyeing the majestic towers of Hogwarts now in plain view and drawing ever closer. "Never mind," she muttered.

The atmosphere was thick with awkward tension by the time the carriage rolled slowly to a halt. Scrambling to get out into the open air again, James followed Lily out, watching he red hair bounce in almost curls over her shoulders and, despite himself, smiling as he did so. They were followed almost directly by the rest of the body of students, all clamouring to get inside to the Great Hall. Thankfully, this left little room for conversation – for once, James did not see this as a complete tragedy – and they did not speak again until they were sat comfortably at the top end of Gryffindor Table, when Lily decided she could not longer stand the kicked bunny mask on James Potter's face.

"Hey," she said lightly, and James looked up from the plate upon which he had been tracing patterns with his forefinger. "What say we make this a good year, huh?" she asked in a friendly tone. "Start again, okay?" she held out her hand in a peaceful gesture, which James accepted with a grateful expression, not entirely sure what to say. His hand was warm, not unwelcoming, but she let go quickly; she didn't want him getting the wrong idea, after all.

"Prongs, do you have any idea where Padfoot and Wormtail are?" Remus asked as he slid neatly into his seat beside Lily so he was sat opposite his friend, while India-Rose took Lily's left hand side, and the two girls immediately fell deep into conversation.

"No idea," James replied, the hint of a frown appearing on his face at the question.

"Oh, don't worry about them," Wendy said as she, Lizzie and Juliette joined them. "They said something about some prank they've thought of. Seemed really excited about it, actually. Please tell me it's safe, at least?"

Remus and James exchanged bemused glances before shrugging in unison.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We haven't had our start of year prank conference, yet," James said. He twisted his head from left to right in an attempt to locate his friends, and in doing so missed the long look he received from the girls when it became clear he was being serious. The Great Hall was packed with students, most of whom had sat down by now, and the noise was escalating as they waited longer and longer for the first years to arrive.

"Wait a minute," Remus reached over the table to nudge James' ar., "There they are." James turned and together they watched as the second half of the Marauders jogged over to their table wearing identical grins of mischief

Sirius clapped his hands together, taking the seat next to James, and neither he nor Peter, who had taken the final remaining seat beside Remus, offered an explanation as they caught their breaths back and made themselves comfortable. Remus knew they were up to something, but his chance to enquire further did not arrive, because at that moment a line of students walked single file into the Hall, led by a tall woman who walked briskly towards the steps where sat a stool and hat.

Remus caught Sirius' eye for the briefest of moments and stared accusingly, but Sirius brushed his friend aside with a shrug, succeeding only in making Remus all the more curious.

* * *

"Uh-oh, discord among the Muppets," Lizzie reported in her favourite journalist tone, and Lily nodded in agreement as Sirius once more insisted that he and Peter were up to _nothing at all, Prongs!_ and demanded _don't look at me like that, Moony!_

"I'm sure they'll live," India-Rose said nonchalantly. "Is it just me, or were there quite a lot of Slytherins this year?"

"Hmm, yes, I noticed that as well," Wendy replied, sounding more intrigued than concerned, like her friend.

"Just what we need, more Voldemort wannabes," Juliette muttered darkly, and Lily nudged her a little to quieten her.

"Don't be so judging, Jules," Lizzie said sharply, as if offended by her friend's words. "Not all Slytherins have to be evil."

"No, they don't. It's just coincidence, of course," Juliette replied snidely, "It's a wonder you didn't foresee such a sudden uprising in little Death Eaters in your crystal ball, Wendy dear," she added as an afterthought.

"You know it doesn't work that way, Juliette." Wendy said patiently, and Juliette rolled her eyes.

"Oh come off it, Winifred," Lizzie said firmly, earning herself a glare from her friend at the use of her full name, "You should hear yourself when you talk about all that crap. You sound like an idiot; you're only making a fool of yourself. All that _Seer_ stuff. It isn't real and you know it."

Wendy turned away from the other girls, swallowing several times and tasting bitter resentment on her tongue. She chided herself internally for being so weak, so silly, almost in tears over a few petty words, but still didn't look back until Juliette had changed the subject in a firm voice.

"So, how did the Prefect meeting go, Head Girl?"

"Oh, fine, I guess," Lily replied.

"Fine? She was bloody fabulous," India-Rose corrected. "Absolutely brilliant, although good look getting her to admit that."

"Yes I will!" Lily said determinedly, eyes flashing with delight. "Girls, I was ruddy marvellous," she said proudly, and they all cheered, clinking their goblets together and gulping down their pumpkin juice.

"That's more like it," India-Rose said, clapping her friend on the back. "I'm telling you, this girl was made to be a Head Girl. Finally getting to exercise her inner control freak."

At this, the girls all agreed heartily with playful teasing remarks. Lily remained silent, smiling despite her embarrassment, unable to hide her pleasure.

* * *

Over the past six years James had grown to trust Sirius implicitly. Remus, on the other hand, was not always so easily won over by the oldest Marauder. Past misdemeanours aside, Sirius Black did not give off a trustworthy impression, and often the glitter of delight in his stormy grey eyes was, unlike his best friend, closer to malicious than mischievous. Not that Sirius could help it, Remus understood; people were different, and found different things funny.

No, what annoyed Remus as he walked up towards Gryffindor Tower with his three closest friends was how easily James accepted that if Sirius said there was nothing to worry about, then there was simply nothing to worry about. Remus knew whatever prank Sirius had planned – he assumed, of course, it was a prank – would not exactly be _harmful_ to anyone, but his secretiveness was enough to have Remus hovering at around about seven on the worry scale. He tried to remind himself that Peter was involved, that this was probably a good omen. There was no way Peter would do anything he considered harmful to James; unless of course Sirius had convinced him otherwise...but no, the young werewolf pushed such morbid thoughts from his mind.

Remus followed a few paces behind his friends, halfway between the raucous laughter of the seventh year boys and the chattering laughter of the seventh year girls, who were leading the way to their common room in the North Tower. Lily explained – once she had recovered from her giggling fit, during which she and Juliette had clutched at one another for support, though over what Remus didn't think he wanted to know – the concept of the portrait and the password to the first years, and announced the current password (which was _not_ Merlin's Saggy Underpants, as James had been so helpfully telling everyone in sight.) Soon they were stepping into the welcoming room that invariably grew to become another home to every Gryffindor student to ever pass through Hogwarts.

It was late, and Remus helped Lily encourage the students to get to bed early. He couldn't help but notice the way the redhead nodded to James, who maturely waved back, before going to bed. Remus rolled his eyes as still James watched her red curls dance out of sight with a degree of longing.

He also noticed Sirius covering up a smirk of victorious glee.

James all but skipped his way up to the dormitory, and together the four boys began getting ready for bed eagerly, tired out after the long journey and heavy with rich food. Padfoot and Prongs , however, unsurprisingly found the energy to excitedly debate when would be best to try and get the motorbike out.

"Soon, I reckon. I want Moony and Wormtail to see it!" Sirius said, and James nodded. Their eyes were wide and bright with exhilaration.

"When are we going to fly it?"

"_Fly_ it?!" Remus cried, and Peter's eyes were larger than galleons at the thought of a _flying_ motorbike.

"Yeah, we…err, it's safe, Moony. We promise!" Thy concluded simultaneously, but Remus merely shook his head in wonder, suppressing the urge to beat himself over the head repeatedly with something large and heavy for expecting anything less extravagant.

Their discussion was cut short by the slamming open of their dormitory door to reveal a foul tempered Head Girl.

The room silenced as the four boys stared at her.

Not attempting to hide the disgusted fury in her expression, Lily walked calmly up to James, who watched, wondering whether or not her seeing him only wearing pyjama bottoms was appropriate or not, with apprehension. It then came to the attention of the group that a monotonous voice that seemed to be warped into something alike to James' own, was speaking aloud, issuing from a piece of paper entitled _The One Hundred And One Perfections Of Lily Evans_. Lily held up the paper, still not speaking.

James' hazel eyes flicked from the paper to the girl, apprehension swiftly evaporating, only to be replaced by fear. "How did you-"

"You really are nothing more than a walking hard on, aren't you, Potter?" Lily interrupted, voice quivering with an anger far deadlier than the outburst over the motorbike. It was quiet, and repressed, and James visibly shivered.

The voice continued to read aloud what exactly these one hundred and one perfections were, and Remus considered coming to his friend's rescue, but Lily spoke again too soon.

"You know," she said, and for a moment it sounded as if she was going to cry, "I thought, just maybe, you were capable of being something more than the arrogant git I've always said you were. And even after that pathetic start to the school year, nearly missing the train, I thought you were maybe going to be ok. I thought, because I'm _so_ optimistic, you would at least _try_ to act more like a responsible student than you have in the past. I thought this summer you might have grown up a bit."

James was mouthing wordlessly at her, still not quite able to form words as he stared at the piece of paper that Remus knew for a fact he had gotten rid of in fifth year, after Lily punched him in the jaw for charming Wendy's skirt to fly over her head.

"I guess I was wrong," Lily finished coldly, ending her speech with a hard slap as her open palm met James' cheek, and she stormed away in a flurry of robes, the list – now dropped lamely to the floor – still reading aloud once the door slammed shut behind her.

Remus turned immediately to Sirius, whose expression was something akin to how his face looked when he realised how _not funny_ it had been to make an inappropriate joke about orphans and dead parents around Juliette. Peter's face was a mess of guilt as he looked to Sirius for what to do now. James was still looking at the door.

"Prongs, we-" Sirius began, but he stopped when James turned around to face him, expression guarded. "It was just supposed to be a joke."

"A joke?" Remus asked, and Peter nodded ashamedly. "I take it this has something to do with whatever it was Lizzie mentioned before you arrived. The prank? You actually _planned_ this?"

The guilty pair nodded.

"So, this is a _thing_, is it?" James asked heatedly, and Remus didn't ask him to calm down, couldn't bring himself to be quite so patronising, as he watched James shake with hurt and rage, looking and sounding uncannily similar to Lily.

Sirius always did look his most vulnerable in the rare awakening of James' anger.

"Is this an _ongoing_ thing?" Remus asked darkly, softly, when James looked away from Sirius, as if burned by the sight of him.

James let out a hard laugh at Sirius' telling silence, at the downturn of Peter's head.

"Wow," James said, shaking his head, hysterical and cold, falsely light-hearted in his betrayal. "I'm glad my feelings bring you such amusement, Sirius." Sirius licked his trembling lips.

"James, it wasn't like that," he began, drawing out another bubble of hysteria from James.

"Oh, really? Then please, Sirius, enlighten me." He spat out the last two words with venomous anger. Sirius Black flinched, and his accomplice cowered.

When no explanation was offered, James went to bed before anyone could speak to him, curling into the covers without bothering with his shirt, which would have involved turning in his best friend's direction to reach. Remus pointed his wand at the paper to silence it, and when he looked up he saw that he was the only one still not hiding behind the curtains of his four poster bed.

With a sigh Remus slipped under his duvet. He wondered vaguely how he had imagined his seventh year would go. He couldn't quite remember; all he knew was that in his imagination, it hadn't started out like this.


	3. Taking Advantage

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
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_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**2. Taking Advantage**

_**Of Official Awkward Day, seeds of doubt, and more swearing.**_

When Juliette Swindon awoke on the morning of her first day as a seventh year at Hogwarts, her first thought was of breakfast; the second was the memory of listening to her best friend crying herself to sleep. Pulling back the four poster curtains surrounding her, Juliette spotted Lily through sleepy eyes sat up in bed. She slipped her feet into her slippers and quietly snuck over to sit on the redhead's bed, her feet bending beneath her as she took Lily's hand.

"Cheer up, love," she said kindly, "it's not like it's anything he hasn't done before." Lily didn't look up from where she was staring down at their entwined fingers. "Are you really going to deprive the world of your beautiful smile because of one stupid boy?" she asked, again to no answer. "Oi," she said as loudly as she dared, knowing how dangerous it was to awaken a sleeping Elizabeth, "Smile, damn-it!"

The smallest of grins appeared on Lily's face. A start, at least, and Juliette still counted this as a success, kissing the top of her friend's head encouragingly.

"That's it," she said with a wink, "now just lift a little more here…" She pressed her index fingers into the corners of Lily's mouth and pulled upwards. Lily jerked her head back with a resentful groan.

"Jules, not helpful," she murmured sleepily.

"Well neither is sitting here moping," Juliette pointed out, and she grabbed Lily's other hand and pulled with all her might until they tumbled off the bed and onto the floor with a thump that was only muffled thanks to the carpet. Lily let out a violently noiseless yell as she clutched at the big toe on her left foot. "Shower," Juliette directed firmly, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

Lily complied with only a quiet grumble, kicking her friend in the leg as she walked past. Juliette watched her go, a mixture of satisfaction and worry bubbling in her stomach.

"You're a good friend," India-Rose said, and Juliette jumped a little as she turned to see the dark haired girl sat on the edge of her own bed, watching with a fond smile on her face.

"And you're not?" Juliette asked with a returning grin. She pranced over to her friend and leapt on her, and together they sprawled on the unmade bed, limbs entangled and heads resting near one another to whisper while Wendy and Lizzie slept.

"I know," India-Rose said, "but you've always been good at that. You know," she waved her hand as if hoping to physically conjure her words. "The whole…_supportive_ friend, I'm _here_ for you, everything's _fine_, don't be _sad_, I'll pretend there's _nothing wrong_, mixture. You've always been the best of us for doing that. Apart from Lils, I suppose."

Juliette merely shrugged, still thinking about the night before.

"Do you think Potter did it?"

Juliette turned to look at the girl, laughing a little. "James? Nah, course he didn't do it. He wrote the list, sure, but he got rid of it in fifth year."

"How do you know that?" India-Rose asked incredulously.

"Because I told him to; and he listens to me, whether he'll admit it or not," Juliette said smugly. "But I know who will have had something to do with it. Someone who will have had access to it, and someone who can easily deceive James…"

"Juliette Loretta Swindon," India-Rose snapped, "Drop it right now."

Juliette sat up, pouting indignantly. "Why should I? I know I'm right. _You _know I'm right."

"All _I _know is that you need to let go of your stupid prejudice against Sirius. Ok, maybe he _did _have something to do with it. Just like he had something to do with the charm that made all our bras somehow get on top of our clothes instead of under them, and that accio charm on our quilts so we had to chase them around the common room in our pyjamas.

"Maybe he _did _do something this time, too, but if he did, I'd bet my wand he didn't do it to hurt anybody. He isn't hurting anything, Jules. Not even you. James is probably over it by now, and Lily will be fine. You need to stop this."

India-Rose reached for Juliette's shoulder, but the girl leaned back so she couldn't reach.

Juliette glared down at her friend, and smacked her hand against the pillow next to India-Rose's head impatiently.

"He doesn't belong here."

"Yes he bloody well does," India-Rose snapped, sitting up so they were eye to eye. "Think about everything he's done for Gryffindor."

"What, embarrassed us with his immaturity?"

"Oh, and Potter's never done that of course," India-Rose agreed with a mocking sneer. "Are you saying Potter shouldn't be in Gryffindor either?"

"No!"

"Then why?"

"Because James is a Potter."

"And Sirius is a Black, so he should be a Slytherin, right?" Juliette didn't look in the least bit ashamed as she gave a nonchalant shrug. "You are the most impossible, narrow-minded fool I've ever met; do you know that, Jules?" Juliette only nodded again, looking sulky. "One of these days you're going to have to accept that Sirius Black is not a dark wizard."

"What are you talking about?" Lily asked, one towel wrapped around her body while she ran another through her damp locks.

"J-"

"Nothing," Juliette said loudly over India-Rose's voice, smiling sweetly at her friend before pointing to her and running a finger over her throat threateningly. At that moment, however, there was a groan as the occupant of the bed furthest to the left began to stir.

"The dragon awakes!" Lily announced, waving her wand around her head until her dark red hair to dry it, just as a mess of blonde hair could be seen protruding through the curtains from under a tangled duvet. After several seconds of incoherent babble, Elizabeth formed the distinguishable words 'early', 'breakfast' and 'school'. "Rise and shine, dearie!"

Juliette was glad looks could not kill. If they could, she was sure that at that moment Lily would have been dead before she could hit the floor.

"Where's Wendy? It's not like her to sleep in," Elizabeth pointed out as she stood on wobbly legs, leaning against her trunk which as of yet was still not unpacked. "Wendy!" she shouted towards the last bed. "Winifred!" she called louder still, but there was no movement.

"She's probably already gone to breakfast," Lily said as she straightened out the creases in her robes with her hands.

"It's only half past seven," Juliette cried, "and I've been awake for a while already. I didn't see her get up," she pointed out, grabbing a towel, ready to race India-Rose for the bathroom if she showed any signs of showering in the next five minutes.

"Well I'll go and look for her," Lily said brightly, fresh and awake, her cheerfulness coaxing a scowl from Lizzie.

The redhead waved to her friends, skirting past India-Rose and Juliette, who had began to wrestle over the doorknob that led to the bathroom, and jogged down the steps to the common room. She tried not to think about the night before. Juliette was right, it wasn't anything she shouldn't have been expecting, and she wasn't going to let herself mope and be miserable over disappointed hopes that Dumbledore had made the right choice when picking their Head Boy.

Her tuneful hum was silenced as she noticed a figure sat in front of the low flames still left from the roaring fire in the grate of the night before. His wavy black hair was smooth and fell almost to his shoulders, and Lily frowned at his back, wondering why on earth the boy who had only ever encouraged his reputation as a bed loving sloth who detested all early birds, was awake and dressed already.

"Have you seen Wendy?" she asked gently, and Sirius shook his head, not turning to look at her. "Well, if you do, will you let her know I'm looking for her?" The boy nodded, and Lily left dissatisfied, ignoring the urge to turn back in the hope of catching some shadow of emotion beyond hopeless vacancy in Sirius Black's face.

* * *

Sirius stared at the dying flames in the grate, feeling no inclination to revive the last embers with a simple flick of his wand, despite the cool air then enveloped him in the quiet of the Gryffindor common room. He licked his lips, brow furrowed, and reached over to the grate until his fingers were darkened with soot and burnt at the tips. He sighed deeply as he withdrew his hand, wiping it on his clean robes.

He had considered staying in the dorms until James, the consummate early bird, awoke, but decided to wait in the common room instead. When James had come down the steps silently for breakfast, he had walked right past his friend without as much as a glance his way.

Sirius didn't bother following.

Rather than spend his time before classes talking to someone who would give him less attention than a brick wall, Sirius remained firmly in his seat on the floor of the common room. He supposed what he was doing could be called sulking, but he didn't care. Actively working to rectify the situation so soon after the incident was only going to make things worse. He knew James well enough to know that.

Sirius drummed his fingers against the floor in a syncopated rhythm that he usually saved for winding up Remus. Even as he lay in bed the previous night, sleep evading him for some time, he hadn't been _too_ worried. It wasn't until James had so casually ignored his presence in the common room that he realised this wasn't like all the other times. He tried not to let the thought scare him, but the flutter of panic that consumed his thoughts, stealing his appetite and fraying his nerves was taking hold of him.

"Don't let it ruin your first day of school."

Sirius didn't look around, even when Wendy sitting down beside him.

"Lily's looking for you," he said, his tone monotonous and his expression unchanging.

"Why?" Wendy asked, sounding bemused, but Sirius merely shrugged. "I couldn't sleep with all that negative air buzzing around the room. I went for a walk."

"Oh," Sirius said, unable to summon the energy to conjure a jibe about just how insane she could be at times, believing the drivel that Professor Simms, the Divination teacher talked about.

They fell back into silence, and within moments Sirius had forgotten the girl's presence. Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't notice at first that Wendy had started speaking again, but zoned back in time to hear her say with compassion,

"…a lot together. It's going to take more than one fight to take away what you have. We've only just started the year. Things will get better soon, I promise." He turned to see her smiling face watching him, her black hair cropped short around her face, framing her rounded jaw.

"Thanks for the heartfelt advice, Wendy dear," he said, pushing himself up with his hands. "But I don't need a lecture on what your damn tealeaves have to say about my future."

As he clambered hastily to his feet and stalked away, Sirius pushed aside the thought that he might have glimpsed tears in her eyes. Instead he focused on a much more pressing dilemma: deciding what to have for breakfast.

Wendy watched the young man walk away, rubbing her upper lip roughly with her hand. Not so long ago such a remark would have dissolved her to tears. But she was stronger now. Over the years she'd grown into her place as a Gryffindor, and she rolled her eyes, wondering if _anyone_ didn't think her a fool for believing something that nobody else understood.

"Are you ok?"

Wendy nodded meekly. "Yes. Fine. Thank you, Peter," she replied, brushing away imaginary dust from her robes as she fell into line beside the boy and together they began to walk towards the portrait and out into the corridor, where Sirius' scurrying figure had already long disappeared from sight.

"That was really unkind of him," Peter said, at which Wendy could only laugh, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Nothing more than I should have expected from a moody Sirius Black. I was asking for it by talking to him when he was being all moody and glum." They chuckled together, agreeing with mischievous smiles that only a fool would willingly interrupt a brooding Padfoot. "How are you?" she asked, and Peter made a noncommittal jerk of the head as he answered.

"Prongs hates me, same as Sirius. Can't really blame him." His entire face fell at the words, as if it physically pained him to be a source of disappointment for the other boy. "But it wasn't like we _meant_ it to go wrong," he pleaded, but either to Wendy or to himself the girl wasn't sure. "It really was just a joke. And, I mean, it was Padfoot's idea, and he's really funny, so I thought it would be ok. We've done quite a few of them before, and James has always found them hilarious, though maybe a little confusing seeing as he wasn't a part of them." Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets grumpily, his feet scuffing heavily along the stone steps towards the Entrance Hall.

"Yes, but did James _know_ it was you two pulling the pranks _on him_?" Wendy asked delicately, and Peter struggled internally for a few moments before shaking his head. "I doubt he would have found them half as funny if he'd known you two were ruining his chances with Lily."

"So you think he might have a chance with her then?" Peter asked, his pale blue eyes suddenly bright with excitement.

Wendy bit her lip, hoping the news wouldn't get back to James _or_ Lily.

"Well, I got the feeling last night that Lily was more…_disappointed_ than angry with James. As if she had thought he was better than that, or maybe hoped…I don't know. It isn't my place to pry," she justified, ending any further questions that Peter was clearly desperate to ask. "And don't say a word of that to anyone," Wendy ordered before they entered the Great Hall. Peter nodded half heartedly, his eyes already fixed on breakfast and he sat down eagerly opposite Sirius without another word.

Unsurprisingly, the seating arrangements had changed somewhat compared to the night before.

James had tactfully cornered himself off in isolation, with the pumpkin juice jug and a piled plate of scones as his barrier, while Remus seemed to be hovering between him and the other two boys, not quite talking to either of them, but shooting concerned glances left and right between each mouthful of his bacon and eggs. Wendy took her seat opposite Lily, and when the last three of the group arrived, Juliette seemed to be following Remus' example, only she chose to ignore Sirius and instead linger somewhere between the Head Girl and Boy. Lizzie and India-Rose were the last to arrive; Lizzie struck up a conversation with Wendy within moments of sitting down, but India-Rose sat closest to the boys, and it seemed to the keen observer that she and Remus shared an exchange of frowning concern as they breakfasted in obstinate silence.

* * *

James had decided that he would name the second of September _Official Awkward Day_. Though she spoke only to Lily, Juliette seemed almost inclined to lean slightly towards him at times, similarly to Remus, who hadn't taken his eyes off him for more than a minute since they had woken up.

A part of him – a _very_ small part of him, mind – just wanted to go slap Sirius playfully around the back of the head and forget the whole thing; the biggest part of him wanted to stand up and scream, shooting curses in every direction to vent his fury at life in general; and a miniscule part of his brain was telling him to stand up and announce to the cheerfully chatting crowds that he was going to marry his broomstick, his snitch was going to be the best man, and that would be all from hereon in.

The latter idea, at that time, seemed by far the most appealing.

However, he performed none of the urges pulsing through his veins. Instead he ate his breakfast in silence, glowering at his plate and stabbing at his food with his fork, imagining each piece of food to be either Sirius', Peter's or Lily's face. Not that that was helping his mood in the slightest, of course.

He was distracted, however, by the handing out of timetables. He vaguely heard Professor McGonagall informing him that as Head Boy, it was his duty to be punctual to all lessons, thus setting a good example for his peers and the younger students. He nodded, and as he returned to his bacon he saw out of the corner of his eye Sirius was smirking a little as he watched the Deputy Headmistress walked away. Hazel eyes met grey for the briefest of moments, but both boys dropped their gazes quickly and neither looked up again for some time.

Given that he knew no-one but India-Rose was watching him, Remus allowed himself to roll his eyes a little at his friends as he glanced over his own timetable. Potions first, he saw with a not quite internal sigh. In six years he had managed to avoid Potions almost completely throughout his first day of school. Typical that his final year should be the one year he is let down.

"Want to head off before the crowd gets moving?" India-Rose offered, and Remus shook his head. But upon seeing the _mother me once more and I'll Avada Kedavra you from here all the way into next week_ look on James' face, he quickly nodded and followed her back up to the common room to collect his bag and books.

In the end they were the first to arrive to class, though Remus was sure McGonagall would have been pleased to know that James was not the very _last_ person to enter the classroom. The group of NEWT students milled around the back of the classroom as Professor Slughorn talked them through the first term's plan, his love of his own voice keeping them standing for a good ten minutes before they were told to sit down, where they would be working individually.

For once, Remus counted this as a blessing. Though normally he had to count on Sirius helping him (a duty Padfoot had taken on board with great delight and more than a hint of arrogance, knowing the omnipotent Moony needed his help) he could not swallow the thought of partnering with Sirius, only to listen to his grumpy whining for an hour and a half.

In the end Remus found himself sat on a table of six, the Gryffindors keeping to themselves as they had done the year before, and it was a mark of Juliette's loyalty to James that she sat opposite Sirius in order to be beside him. Lily sat at Juliette's other side, and hadn't breathed a word since they had entered the classroom beyond a polite response to Slughorn's ever enthusiastic welcome to his favourite Gryffindor.

In keeping with all Slughorn's first lessons of the year, he offered minimal help, merely telling the page number, and that he expected better results than that of the previous year. Remus took one look at the page and felt his heart drop.

"Sir, we've already done this one though," Jemima Gregors said loudly, starting a series of murmurs from the rest of the class in agreement.

"I know, Miss Gregors, but last year I offered a prize if you could do it. This year, you simply fail this first assessment if you don't do it," Slughorn explained in a jovial tone, sounding almost amused by this. Remus felt his heart sink further. Unsurprisingly, Sirius grinned. Having made a relatively impressive Draught of Living Death in his sixth year – beaten only by Lily and Snape, – he was sure to get through his first lesson of the day with apparent ease. Remus, on the other hand, was going to have to work harder than ever, given how much assistance he had been granted the last time he had attempted this potion.

Conjuring a light flame beneath his cauldron, Remus began gathering his ingredients together; concentrating so hard to make sure he got everything right that he came close to ignoring Lily when she spoke to him.

"Remus, you're on Prefect duty tonight, in case you missed the notice on the board."

"What? Oh, yes…yes I did see it. Thanks Lily, you are as well, I noticed," he pointed out, and the redhead nodded. Remus noticed out of the corner of his eye that James seemed somewhat ruffled by this, but was doing his best to pretend he had not heard, or at least that the news did not affect him.

"Yes, the rota will change every few weeks or so. I think soon we'll have it so that people from different houses are on rounds together, too. But for now we'll just keep it like this." She spoke with finality, and Remus was tempted to ask if the Head Boy had been involved at all in this decision, but decided against the idea. Tempting the dragon was something he had learnt to avoid at all costs when it came to his fellow Gryffindors, particularly Lily Evans and Juliette Swindon.

He went back to his potion, reading through the instructions several times to make sure he hadn't missed anything, but was interrupted when a burst of flames issued form one of the cauldrons at the Gryffindor table and Sirius let out a scream of anguish as his perfectly simmering potion curdled, and his cauldron began to cough out a great deal of heavy black smoke. He looked up to see Juliette slowly cutting up her sopophorous bean without so much as glancing his way.

He snarled wordlessly and before he could be stopped he grabbed a handful of the nearest ingredient he could find – fish eggs, as it turned out – and threw them straight into her potion, turning it lime green.

"Black!" she shrieked and Sirius waved sarcastically at her, waggling his fingers teasingly. She grabbed her wand but Lily snatched it from her.

"Don't, Jules."

"Padfoot, stop it," Remus ordered, and though they did not move to strike again, Sirius and Juliette continued to glare at one another for a few moments before insults spewed from their mouths, too loud to be distinguishable over one another.

It did not escape Remus' notice that James was simply carrying on with his potion, as if totally unaware of the goings on around him.

Lily and India-Rose, on the other hand, were doing everything they could to get their own opinions of Sirius out as they restrained Juliette from leaping across the table, clearly ignoring the fact that it was their friend who had initiated the fight.

"Will the three of you give over," Remus shouted over the screeching of the girls, "You're all as bad as each other. It was Juliette that bloody well started it, Sirius was only retaliating. You're all-"

But exactly what they all were, Remus didn't say, because they were interrupted by Slughorn's roaring voice.

"Will everyone settle down; Black, Swindon, detention tonight. Lupin, Evans, Norrell, anymore of this and you'll join them." His tone was final, all smiles gone from his rounded face.

"But sir!" Sirius whined, sounding peculiarly dog-like as he did so.

"No, Black. Detention. I am not changing my mind; in fact, if you continue to carry on in this way, I'll make that two." Slughorn raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if Sirius would respond, and for a moment it seemed as if he would, but at a warning look from Remus he quietened, returning to his work to try and salvage what was left of his burnt potion.

Juliette wrenched her arm from Lily's grip and also tried to save her potion, refusing to look at anything but the gooey green mess that had once been a somewhat pride-worthy piece of work.

Remus glanced over at James, who appeared unconcerned, his brow furrowed over his dark hazel eyes as he stirred his reasonably well mixed potion. He looked up as he felt Remus' gaze on his face and shrugged, as if to say _what can you do?_ And Remus rolled his eyes, wondering how long James could last without defending Sirius against Juliette.

Or perhaps more accurately, how long Sirius could last.

* * *

After spending several minutes negotiating a little first year out of her favourite chair – wondering all the while if _she_ had been so annoying when she was eleven years old – Juliette slumped into her seat in front of the fire, ready to remain there for several hours undisturbed.

Her plan worked for all of six minutes.

She recognised the husky grumble of James Potter and turned to see him collapsing into the chair beside her. For a moment she considered leaving him be, but as he glanced up to meet her eyes she decided to leap straight into the interrogation, never one to dance around a subject.

"So, did you keep out of the argument in potions today because as Head Boy you plan on being responsible…or did you just not feel like defending Black?"

She didn't bother pretending to have no opinion on the matter.

He shrugged, continuing to stare at his Quidditch book as if reading intently. Though Juliette knew all too well he could recite the entire thing from memory, near enough.

"Oi, Jimmy. Talk."

"Don't call me that."

Juliette grinned in victory, and James rolled his eyes.

"I just decided not to fight his battle for him, okay?" His attempt to sound tired and weary did not fool her. He was wide awake and she knew it.

"Anything to do with his little joke involving a certain redheaded beauty?" she asked, sounding sarcastically delicate. James glowered at her.

"Drop it, Juliette," he ordered gruffly, and the girl sighed dramatically.

"Why did you expect anything else from him?" she asked, "He's been doing it for ages, all these pranks at your expense. He made you believe that the jokes were all to be taken lightly, while he laughed at you behind your back. He doesn't care, Jim." Looking up into her chocolate eyes, James saw nothing but sincerity and concern.

"What's going on?" India-Rose frowned as she turned to Juliette. "Don't you have a detention…three minutes ago?" she asked and Juliette leapt out of her chair.

"Oh bloody hell, stupid Sluggy. See you guys later." And without another word she raced out of the common room. James flicked his eyes down to his watch and looked at India-Rose, surprised.

"I think you mean starting in fifteen minutes," he corrected. India-Rose simply shrugged.

"Oh well, she doesn't have a watch, she'll never know." She didn't seem bothered at all by this treachery on her part, and James stared at her suspiciously.

"What's going on?" he asked, but India-Rose merely shrugged.

"I just wanted her chair," she replied, sinking into the cushions and rubbing the back of her neck with a massaging hand. James accepted this and returned to his book, but India-Rose continued to watch him, wondering if she had been quick enough to stop Juliette from taking advantage of Sirius' absence to launch a personal attack against James' best friend. She was so pre-occupied with her own thoughts that she failed to notice that though they were directed towards the page, James' eyes did not move as they followed the words of Chapter Seven of his Quidditch anthology.

The seed of doubt had been planted.

* * *

"Not very wise of you to change the duty rota so you weren't partnered with Prongs, Lily," Remus said lightly as they began their circuit of the corridors. It took the redhead a few minutes to respond, and when she did she sounded as if her words justified her actions, but it did not fool either herself or the boy walking by her side.

"We've always done our rounds together, Remus. Why would I bother changing from tradition? India-Rose and Pot…_James_ have never done Prefect duty before, so they may as well learn together." The hesitancy in her voice told Remus she knew just as well as he did that it would have made much more sense for someone of little knowledge to be partnered with someone of experience.

"Okay then," Remus said, and Lily elbowed him when she spotted his badly concealed smile.

"Leave it alone, Remus. I don't want to talk about it." This time she sounded sure of herself, but still Remus was not convinced.

"I didn't say a word."

"But you were thinking it."

"I apologise, I shall hence forth cease all thinking."

Silence ensued, but when she caught the amused glint in Remus' eyes she chuckled reluctantly. He didn't press the matter, however, instead changing the subject.

"How's your dad doing?"

Lily shrugged half-heartedly, and Remus put a comforting around her shoulders.

"You know, getting by. He thinks he has some mystical ability to stay alive without looking after himself, so mum's been having a hard time getting him to keep away from the cigarettes and beer, and he keeps trying to convince her to cook him a big steak every other night." Lily was grateful of the tight squeeze Remus gave her. "Lizzie stayed for while during the summer, and I had a bit of trouble keeping her out of the house whenever mum and dad were starting to argue. I don't think she noticed anything though; to be honest, she was more interested in the fact that Petunia avoided us both the entire time she was there."

"Are things still not good with your sister?" Remus asked, withdrawing his arm from around her. Lily shook her head, but didn't look too worried.

"They haven't exactly been brilliant since I first got my letter. In fact, really it's getting better. She's ignoring me completely instead of throwing insults at me now." Lily smiled to herself, and seeing Remus' concern she waved a hand airily. "Don't worry about it, Remus. I've got all the family I need right here," she linked an arm around the crook of his elbow to prove her point.

"Have you talked to Wendy lately?" Remus asked, when it became clear Lily was not going to elaborate any further.

"Yes…why?"

"No," he said, shaking his head as they made their way down to the dungeons. "I mean really talked to her. Not just about the weather."

"Err…" Lily said, frowning as she thought her way backwards through the day. "Why, what's wrong?"

"She seems a bit…distant. She's taking this whole Seer thing really seriously," he said.

"So?" Lily asked, "You know Wendy, the moment she first heard old Simms ramble on about the future and knowledge and the 'clandestine, omniscient eye' in third year she was entranced. That's just who Wendy is. She's all for that airy fairy nonsense." Her voice was fond as she spoke of her friend, but Remus frowned.

"That's what I mean, _you_ see it as some affectionate little thing to find cute about her, but _she_ sees it as deadly serious, and that you're mocking her. I mean, all these dreams she says she has, what if she actually has the gift?"

"Remus, don't go all crystal ball on me," Lily said. "Maybe there is some small truth in what she sees, but I don't think it's anything to worry about. It's not like she's going to start prophesising great battles or happenings of the future." She stopped speaking at the serious expression on his face. "Oh no, don't tell me that's what you think is going to happen?"

"Well we just don't know, do we?" he asked frantically.

Lily simply smiled and patted her friend's arm, her decision made. She would talk to Wendy later, even if it was just to prove she was right, and that there was nothing to worry about.

* * *

"I'd just like to inform you of something. I very much dislike you."

Juliette did not reply immediately as she scrubbed her second desk by hand, pulling a face at the sticky residue clinging to the wood.

"Well I'd just like to inform you that you're an utter troll."

"How original, Swindon," Sirius snapped in reply, his temper not improving thanks to the large black stain that refused to budge on the table he was scouring.

They had been cleaning the tabletops down for almost half an hour, and their progress was minimal, not helped by their constant bickering. Professor Slughorn had left for his office after he had explained to them what to do – first having put both their wands in his pocket – and had promised them a second detention if the desks did not sparkle by the time he got back.

His threat did not seem to be working.

Every time the silence stretched for too long, one of the pair would make an offhand comment, resulting in the splashing of water and a few shrieked insults.

"At least I don't make a mockery out of my friends for my own amusement," Juliette spat fiercely.

She was pleased to notice this silenced him. She looked over to the other side of the room to see he had stopped scrubbing. He was standing upright, cloth in hand, staring at her.

He looked…hurt.

"What?" she asked in a bored voice.

"Fuck. You," he said, his voice poisonous.

"Ooh, scary," Juliette replied with a smirk and an exaggerated shiver of fear.

"I mean it, Swindon. Just leave it the fuck alone," he ordered, and Juliette rolled her eyes.

"Is the swearing supposed to intimidate me?" she asked. "What am I meant to be afraid of, more swearing? That's not scary." Sirius scowled and returned to his work. "You're impossible," Juliette sighed, resulting in an outcry from Sirius.

"I'm impossible? _I'm_ impossible?" he asked.

"Yes, Black. You're impossible. I make one little comment and you get all upset. Fight back you coward. What are you afraid of?" She asked impatiently.

"Nothing. Least of all you, Swindon."

Sirius was fed up with her. He was fed up with arguing with James. He was fed up with the pitying and appraising looks from Remus. He was fed up with Peter blaming him for James hating him. He was fed up with always doing the wrong thing.

"What an impressive speech," Juliette simpered, grinning to herself as she moved onto her third desk.

"What have I actually done to deserve this, really, Swindon? At what point in time did I ever hurt you before you decided that you would hate me?" He walked right the way over to her as he spoke, and her eyes lowered briefly before they returned back to meet his accusing gaze. She reached up and pointed to the Gryffindor crest stitched into his robes, jabbing her soapy finger into his chest.

"You don't deserve that," she said simply, and returned to her cleaning.

"Oh, because of my family?" he asked, slamming his hand down on top of hers to reclaim her attention. "Because we're all buddy-buddies with the Malfoys and who knows who else? Because-"

"_Yes_!" she screamed at him, hand whipping around to slap him across the face seeing as her wand was currently locked in the Potions Master's office, but he caught her by the wrist and pushed her hand away. "You're no Gryffindor."

"Fine, be that way." He turned his back on her and a pregnant silence followed, which was only broken when the door was opened by Professor Slughorn, who with a disappointed sigh deemed their jobs finished, and excused them for the night.

* * *

"Ahh, bed!" Lily sighed as she and Remus made a full U-turn at the end of the corridor, making their way back to the North Tower. Remus made a noncommittal noise, and Lily budged him with her shoulder.

"Not looking forward to a good night's sleep? I know I am," she yawned as if to emphasise her desperation to get under her duvet and turn off the lights, but Remus did not share her enthusiasm.

"Going back to our dorms at the moment is probably more dangerous than walking into the Slytherin common room unarmed. I swear, I can't wait for James and Sirius to kiss and make up. It'll make my life a hell of a lot easier."

Lily chuckled, but she asked with complete sincerity, "Is everything ok?"

"Oh yes, fine, you know those two. They can bicker like a married couple. Though, of course, they're never argued for more than…I'd say a couple of minutes at most. And you'll want to keep Juliette in check. She'll be making full use of James being cut off from Sirius to drive Padfoot out of the pack." Lily looked surprised at the news, frowning in protest.

"You think? I know Jules can be a bit…aggressive at times, but she wouldn't go that far." Lily was sure Juliette wouldn't be so cruel as to get involved. This was a dispute between James and Sirius, the only girl with any right to get involved was Lily herself, and she had no intentions of getting in the line of fire.

"Lily, Juliette knew James years before Sirius met him. And she hated the Black family years before she started Hogwarts. Then all of a sudden, James is best friends with Sirius."

"You think she's jealous of Sirius' closeness to James?" Lily sounded dubious at the thought, Juliette may care about James, but she never seemed to show any particular partiality to the boy - other than to protect him from the influence of the villainous Sirius Black, of course.

"No…not jealous," Remus mused thoughtfully. "She just doesn't like the fact that James is friends with him; it's got nothing to do with wanting his position as James' best friend. I think she's got enough on her plate being _your_ best friend."

"Hey!" Lily objected. "What exactly are you implying there?" she asked, and Remus laughed with her.

"_Quickly, hurry up!_"

Lily turned to Remus, who nodded to tell her he had heard it too, a hushed and frantic voice. Together they withdrew their wands from their pockets. Remus held up three fingers, lowering them one by one, as the third finger as brought down, both he and Lily ran around the last corner simultaneously calling the trespassers to a stop. They found themselves confronted by four tall boys, all looking angry and disappointed.

"What are you doing up so late?" she demanded, and the shortest figure stepped forward, his pale brown eyes full of false innocence.

"I'm on duty, Evans," he said, and Lily shook her head.

"No you're not, Franklin. You're not on night duty until Thursday. And even if you were, your friends wouldn't be joining you, _would they_?" she asked pointedly, and the sixth year glowered at her, nodding reluctantly. "Get back to bed, all of you. And ten points from Slytherin each for being out after hours."

For one long second it seemed they were going to argue. They fingers seemed to tighten around their wands, and Remus took a step forward so he was a little in front of Lily out of instinct, though he could feel her burning scowl on the back of his head at the implication, and retreated to her side again. Nobody did for Lily Evans what she could do for herself, especially if it involved protecting herself.

There were several mutinous mutters as the four boys began to make their way back down to the dungeons, the only words distinguishable being 'soon enough' and 'mudblood'.

"That's another ten points for your cheek, Swanning," Remus called after them, but Lily hadn't noticed the insult. She stared directly at the ground, firmly avoiding the dark watchful eyes of Severus Snape as he tried to catch her attention before he left. When it became clear she wasn't going to so much as look him, Snape walked away, head hanging a little lower than before, as if ashamed of himself, or disappointed about something.

"You okay?" Remus asked when still Lily made no move to continue back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Yeah," the redhead replied vacantly, her eyes on Snape's retreating back.

"Come on then," Remus took hold of Lily's arm and began directing her towards the Entrance Hall, where the stairs main stairs were. They were interrupted, however, but a loud bang and a series of shouts. For a moment they froze, but soon Remus and Lily were racing back down the corridor. Before they could reach the muffled sounds of a fight, however, there was an abrupt silence even more terrifying than the yelling.

"This way," Remus urged, pulling Lily through a shortcut behind a tapestry and after racing as quickly possible down a low ceilinged corridor, they clambered out of the other end and stopped short at the sight before them.

"Sirius!"

"Juliette!"

They shouted in unison, and both the Gryffindors looked up from where they stood, four unconscious Slytherins around them.

Lily glared at Juliette and Sirius, both of whom were wearing identical masks of innocence.

"What did you do?"


	4. The Storm And The Calm That Follows It

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
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_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**3. ****The Storm and the Calm that Follows It**

_**Of Slytherins, Gryffindors, and the placement of bets.**_

The detention had left both Sirius and Juliette in tempers far shorter than usual, and it was no surprise that they did not make it to the end of the corridor without what could only be described as a minor explosion. Sirius reached forwards and grabbed Juliette's arm, swinging her around and ignoring her cry of pain as he twisted it until she was facing him.

"We need to get something straight, Swindon. Something I would have hoped you had noticed over the past _six_ _years_."

"Go on," Juliette snarled, forcing her forearm from Sirius' iron grip and crossing her arms over her chest, her weight leaning into one hip as she waited for him to speak.

"I am not my cousin." If Juliette was startled by his words, she did not show it, but at her raised eyebrows Sirius refrained from taking hold of her again. "I have not spoken a civil word to my cousin since I was about eight years old, and even then I don't ever recall being much more than _polite_. I didn't like her when I was five and she used to get me into trouble with my parents; and I sure as hell don't like her now she's running around with Voldemort.

"For the record, I was eight years old when she killed your parents, the exact same as you. Me? I was probably spending the day arguing with my brother, and generally pissing my parents off. I didn't even know where she was. So would you kindly stop blaming every little damn thing that goes wrong in your life on me? I don't take kindly to false accusations."

"Are you done?" she asked, and Sirius let out a shriek of frustration and raised his fist, punching the wall behind the girl before he did something he would later regret. Juliette rolled her eyes at his amateur dramatics, but he had turned away from her to glare down the empty corridor.

"Did you even listen to a word I just said?" he asked, and Juliette nodded. "Well then you'll understand that you have no reason to hate me," he said simply. Juliette unlocked herself from her rigid position as she paused to consider his words.

"But I can still hate your family?" she asked slowly, and Sirius sighed in relief.

"Swindon. _I_ hate my family!" he pointed out, and Juliette ran a finger over her lower lip, deep in thought. A sly smirk twitched at her lips, and Sirius had no love for the light that suddenly danced in her eyes.

"So…by association I can still hate you?"

Sirius threw his arms up into the air in defeat and for a moment considered bashing his head against the wall. Or perhaps hers instead.

"You stubborn cow!" he shouted, and Juliette shrugged.

"And you're an arrogant sod, but I'm learning to deal with it."

Sirius raised his hands again, and for the briefest of seconds it seemed as if he was going to wrap his fingers around her throat; instead, however, he clasped his hands together in the air, looking a little like he was pleading to an unknown God.

"Please," he begged feebly. "Try to understand this. I do not mean you any harm, Swindon."

"Do you hate me?" Juliette asked softly, their eyes meeting properly for the first time.

"Of course I bloody well hate you!" Sirius said, but he was smiling a little. "You've given me nothing but hell over six years for something I had no part in!"

"Well then why should I stop hating you if you hated me too? At least I had a reason!"

"You had _no_ reason!" Sirius screamed at the hysterical girl, having to stoop a little to stand at her eye level. Juliette glared at him, and he could practically see the internal struggle going in her dark, coffee coloured eyes. Her lips parted and her teeth bit down on the tip of her tongue as she thought. Sirius allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his face as he hoped for the truce they had been avoiding for so long. One of Juliette's hands raised, and he made to shake it.

That was, until, she brought the palm of it straight across his cheek, the harsh slapping sound of skin on skin resounding through the empty corridor.

In the time it took for Sirius to recover from the shock, the tips of his fingers rubbing over his face as his cheek burned hot and red, Juliette was already half way towards the Entrance Hall.

"_Swindon_!" he roared, staggering with heavy footfalls after the girl.

She was fast, but he had the little known advantage of practising outrunning a werewolf once a month, and he was soon snapping at her heels, his teeth gnashing curiously similarly to a dog. "Swindon, you get your arse back down here now!" He knew this would do nothing to make her stop running, but it made him feel better, and lessened his chances of actually killing her when he caught her, which he did moments later, hard fingers snagging at her shoulder and pulling her around with a violent swing. "You're lucky you're a girl, Swindon, or you'd be waking up in St Mungo's, never mind the Hospital Wing."

Juliette made mocking whiny voices, seemingly unaware of the hand that was slowly turning her wrist and hand blue as the circulation of blood was cut off.

"Oh give over, coward. I can take anything you dish out," she snapped, and Sirius didn't reply, knowing that speaking in general, no matter his words, was more than likely going to earn him another slap. "Go on, Black. Just hit me. Do it, you know you want to…" she said in a sing song, patronising voice.

"Stupefy!"

"Protego!"

Sirius cursed Juliette's natural duelling ability, he had been hoping for once she wouldn't see it coming, but she deflected it with an apathetic wave of her wand.

"What, you won't hit me but you'll curse me?" Juliette asked, breathless with laughter.

"Yeah, it seems politer…" Sirius replied defensively.

"You could at least have made it a decent spell," Juliette's voice was bored, the same as her expression. "I mean, a stunning spell? We were using that in our fourth year."

"Fine," Sirius spat, preparing to cast something more interesting, but they were interrupted by the hoots and jeers of several highly amused voices, and when they looked around it was to see four silhouettes watching them.

"Yes, finally!" Roger Franklin sneered in delight. "They're killing one another off! This makes our problems _so_ much easier!"

"Always knew they were stupid," Severus Snape leered, his dark eyes glinting pitch in the lack of light.

"Want to come a step closer, Snape?" Juliette offered in a sweet voice. "You can get a better view," she offered and Snape accepted, sauntering towards the Gryffindors with his companions followed closely behind him as they spread out to circle around the pair, as if hoping to intimidate them further.

Though they would surely later deny any bond of comradeship, in perfect synchronisation Juliette and Sirius fired their wands, and Franklin and another boy dropped to the ground. Snape and Swanning were faster though, and their wands were drawn swiftly, so both Gryffindors had to leap aside to avoid being cursed.

"Get off me Black!" Juliette ordered when Sirius' arm flew into her.

"Sorry for moving, Swindon!" Sirius replied angrily as his spell slipped past Snape's defence and the boy crumpled to the ground, leaving only the two Gryffindors standing. They admired their victory, each one already rewriting the story in their head to make themselves the true hero of the tale, and it was only when they realised quite what they had done that the tapestry opposite them was ripped open to reveal a sandy haired boy and a redheaded girl, both of whom looked furious.

"What did you do?" Lily Evans demanded, barely able to contain her shriek, indicating the four unconscious figures on the floor, as if it would be at all possible to misinterpret her question. Impossible as it was, however, Juliette and Sirius still shrugged, their expressions innocent.

"We don't know what you're talking about!"

* * *

When he awoke, the first thing Severus Snape was aware of was that his head hurt. The second thing was that Lily Evans was in the room.

Though he kept his eyes closed, her voice even at a whisper was recognisable, and peering through his eyelashes he saw that the redheaded beauty was standing with the werewolf and Professor Dumbledore, talking animatedly, her frown prominent and her lips set into something of a pout each time she paused in her speech.

Severus glanced around the Hospital Wing to see he and Roger Franklin were the only ones still there. He tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before, but everything was a little hazy as his head throbbed and he closed his eyes against the ache in his temple. He listened intently, focusing as best as he could on Dumbledore's voice, and found he could just about make out the conversation.

"…because as you know, Mr Lupin, I had hoped you would be able to exercise some measure of control over your friends, and even you, Miss Evans."

"Yes sir," both teens replied somewhat shame-facedly.

"Now, I do not put any blame on either of you for what happened, it is purely the fault of the culprits, and both Mr Black and Miss Swindon are being punished accordingly. However, I hope you will do your best to try and influence them in the future, lest they make a greater mistake next time." Dumbledore, infuriatingly as ever, did not appear scolding or angry in the slightest, even with Black and Swindon, Severus acknowledged bitterly, if anything that Headmaster seemed little beyond _disappointed _in the pair. "And I thank you for your honesty. I know it is never easy getting your friends into trouble, but you did the right thing."

"Something tells me Sirius and Juliette won't see it that way, sir," Lupin said hesitantly.

"No, they probably won't. But no doubt you shall bear the burden well. Perhaps these detentions will help them realise the error of their ways."

Severus could not understand how the man would ever believe such a ridiculous notion. Black, see the error of his ways? Severus could think of few ideas as preposterous as that. He could feel the frown etching its way into his face and he worked to keep his expression blank. In truth, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice when the students and Headmaster's conversation came a close. Nor did he notice that one of them had neared his bedside and stood over him, unmoving, thinking him to be asleep.

Finally he sensed her presence, and upon opening his eyes he blinked a few times until the heart shaped face of Lily Evans came into focus.

"Lily," he whispered, sitting up and ignoring the spots that danced around in his vision.

"Don't," she said, pushing his shoulder back down with a light hand. "You hit your head pretty hard when you fell. Madam Worrell insisted on keeping you and Franklin in over night to make sure you were ok." Severus searched desperately for some form of genuine concern in her voice, but whether he was imagining it or not, he couldn't be sure.

"What are you doing here?" Severus asked, hopeful only for a few seconds that she would reply with words of comfort, of how she was worried about him, and he glanced briefly over to the sleeping Franklin lying immobile only a few feet away, to make sure he couldn't hear them. But alas, his hopes came to nothing; Lily perched reluctantly on the edge of the bedside seat, her face grim.

"I wanted to know what you were doing out so late last night."

Disappointment flooded through him, along with the hurt that blossomed in his chest at the accusatory tone in her usually kind voice. He knew he had no right to expect her to trust him, but that made the pain no easier to bear every time it became all too clear any affection she once held for him was gone.

"Nothing," he said defensively, and Lily cocked an eyebrow disdainfully.

"Oh really?" she asked sarcastically, and Severus, whose expression of innocence was an unbreakable mask when confronted by anyone except for the girl sat before him, faltered a little.

"Y-Yes," he replied.

"Tell me, Severus," and though it was neither the time nor the place to think such thoughts, Severus felt his heart glow at the way she had spoken his name, regardless of the impatience in her voice.

"It's none of your business, Lily," he snapped, and Lily sat back in the hard seat, her emerald eyes appraising him.

"Fine, I thought maybe for once you'd actually be helpful. Apparently not." She stood and made to leave, but Severus reached over and grabbed her hand before she could take even two steps. "What?" she demanded, swinging around so that her dark red locks bounced around her face.

"I'm not evil, you know, Lily," Severus said in a small voice. Lily's expression remained cold, but something in her eyes changed as she surveyed the dark haired boy lying before her. "And I'd hate to have you think of me as evil," Severus continued, taking advantage of her silence. "But you always tried to paint me as one of your precious Gryffindors. And I'm not, Lily. I'm not a Gryffindor," he implored, and he pressed his lips tightly together as he waited for an answer.

"I have to go," Lily replied thickly.

"But-"

"Goodbye, Snape,, Lily said as she pulled her hand from his grasping fingers and stalked away, not looking back, though Severus continued to watch her, his eyes remaining on the doorway even once she was out of sight.

"Well, Mr Snape, it appears you're just about better," Madam Worrell said kindly, her round face all smiles as she interrupted Severus' thoughts. She handed out a small beaker to him. "Drink this up and you can leave whenever you like. I'd suggest nothing too strenuous, though. What lessons have you got today?"

Severus looked up to stare at her blankly for a few seconds, wondering whether or not she required an answer.

"Err…" he stalled for a moment, "Herbology, and then a free lesson I think," he guessed wildly, trying to remember what had been written on the timetable that was still in his dorm in the dungeons.

"Well, there's probably only about fifteen minutes left of your first lesson now, my dear. So you may as well just get back to your common room once you're all done."

Her smile was gracious and motherly, but Severus did not pay heed to it as he began to gulp down the sickly concoction. His thoughts lingered still on a Miss Lily Evans, as he pondered how best to win her friendship back again.

* * *

Elizabeth Harding had never before directly interfered in another person's business without permission. For the most part she considered it unnecessary, and in some cases, downright rude. So when a time came when she was convinced to join a friend in the interfering of another friend's business, she was not altogether happy, nor was she surprised to discover she did not enjoy the experience at all.

Her eyes flicked down to her watch for the umpteenth time to find that there was still another four minutes of her Ancient Runes class to go, and rolled her eyes. She wasn't too sure whether she wanted time to speed up, slow down, or perhaps stop completely. The closer they were to the lesson ending, the closer they were to leaving this utterly dull theory lesson. And yet, the closer they were to the lesson ending, the closer they were to lunch, and there was no way that was going to be a smooth ride.

Lily had known for approximately seventy minutes by now who it was that planted the list on her bed to be found on their first night. For approximately sixty-five minutes by now, Sirius and Peter had been attempting to break the curse that had locked their arms into half nelsons. Also by now, Juliette had hopefully managed to find the anti-jinx needed to bring back her voice, after James cursed her to stop her from getting any more involved in the entire situation.

In all honesty, Lizzie was impressed Professor McGonagall hadn't had a nervous breakdown yet these past six years as their Head of House.

The bell rang loud and clear and together she and Wendy groaned from where they sat side by side.

"From now on, I am sticking to my own plan." Lizzie said as together they plodded out of the door and down towards the Great Hall. "Do not help people unless they expressly ask for it. I can't believe I let Jules persuade me to help her tell Lils the truth."

"To be fair to Jules, she was only stopping Lily from punishing James for something he didn't do," Wendy said, and Lizzie shrugged.

"So? We all know that was her secondary motive. She _also_ wanted to get Sirius in trouble. And where has it landed her? Running off to the Hospital Wing because James cursed her voice away, that's where. Hopefully that will teach her not to meddle in other peoples' business from now on." Lizzie sounded very sure of herself as she spoke, and didn't sound particularly sympathetic towards her friend.

"What's gotten into you lately, Liz?" Wendy asked sounding shocked. "What happened to us girls sticking up for one another, a united front against the Marauder-Muppets?" Lizzie gave a deep sigh.

"I know, I know," she admitted. "And I do feel for Jules, Wendy, I do. But the fact is she spends so much time hating all Slytherins she's turning herself into some bitter and twisted bitch, when really she's a good person underneath that hard exterior." Lizzie shook her head. She didn't _want_ to speak ill of her friend, but she knew she was right. Juliette spent too much time categorising people into stereotypes, and not enough time getting to know the person beneath the labels she so freely stuck on people.

"I suppose she could have turned out worse, couldn't she?" Wendy asked, continuing even when Lizzie snorted her contempt for the thought. "No, really. After everything, she could have turned out far worse. Think how she was in First Year, didn't say more than a sentence at a time to anyone but James. She's come out pretty strong, I'd say."

"Oh, yeah, that's just brilliant," Lizzie snorted. "So instead of caring about no-one at all, she cares about a select few people too much, right?" she asked, and Wendy nodded ruefully.

"I suppose. But at least she's got her heart in the right place."

Lizzie reluctantly agreed, scuffing her feet along the stone floor as she walked.

"I still wish she hadn't got me involved!" the blonde exclaimed loudly after a brief pause, hitching her bag a little higher onto her shoulder. "I'm just lucky James listened to me long enough to know it wasn't my idea, otherwise I'd probably have been saying goodbye to my voice for a while as well."

"Oh, and that would have been such a tragedy. Imagine, Lizzie Harding with no voice. How would we have coped without your dulcet tones?"

"Oi!" Lizzie replied, slapping her hand playfully against Wendy's arm, and they laughed at one another as they pushed through the crowds all bustling towards the Great Hall where the warm smell of hot food was filling the air.

"Why do you think James was so annoyed though?" Wendy asked.

"Huh?" Lizzie said, leaning down so she was closer to the shorter girl's height.

"_James_. Why would he have been annoyed about Lily knowing the truth?"

"Beats me, you're the psychic one here, Winnie," Wendy scowled at both the nickname and the comment, but said nothing about it, instead carrying on.

"Maybe he's not quite as angry at Sirius and Peter as he'd like to admit," she said, and Lizzie made a noncommittal noise that was probably agreement.

"Oh dear, here we go," the blonde girl said, and she grabbed Wendy's hand and pulled her towards the Gryffindor table, the top end of which was severely lacking in conversation.

Lily sat eating her meal with an intense kind of fury, as if every mouthful had wronged her in some way; James was staring at his half empty plate, as if he had forgotten what he was supposed to do with the pile of mince and potatoes before him; Remus and India-Rose, however, seemed perfectly at ease, and Lizzie had to admire their incessant ability to stay out of the way during the majority of the little dramas that seemed to be an endless series of arguments and mishaps between the nine Gryffindors.

"Where're the others?" Wendy asked, trying to sound casual but failing dismally.

"Well, Sirius and Peter are still getting their arms fixed by Madam Worrell, and Juliette claimed she wasn't hungry," Remus informed the new arrivals, and Wendy's eyes flicked to her redheaded friend in time to see Lily forcibly remove the look of pride at her actions from her face. She noticed too, that James didn't seem remotely remorseful either.

"I'm going back to the common room," the Head Boy said abruptly, and stood, making to leave.

"Me too," Lily said only a few seconds later, and she exited only a few steps behind him, blissfully unaware of the four pairs of astonished eyes that followed her from the table she had just vacated.

"Do you ever wonder," Lizzie said slowly, returning her gaze to the table where she was helping herself to some shepherd's pie, "What we did to deserve such…a ridiculously low amount of normality in our lives?"

India-Rose snorted into her bowl of soup. "What?" Lizzie asked her, "I'm being serious!"

"Who's being Sirius?"

"Make that joke one more time and I'll be taking a leaf out of Lily's book, Padfoot," Remus growled as his friend took a seat beside him. Peter settled down on the other side of the table, and Lizzie noticed that both the boys were looking somewhat dishevelled.

"Headline for the future: never, under any circumstances, get on the wrong side of Lily Evans." Sirius said grumpily, reaching for the bowl of thickly cut chips in front of Wendy.

"Don't worry, we won't," Wendy promised, handing the bowl to him when she spotted his grabbing fingers were in danger of knocking several trays over in their desperate bid for chips.

"We're not that stupid," India-Rose pointed out in a playfully snarky voice.

"Will you just drop it all of you!" Sirius exploded, and India-Rose opened her mouth in shock.

"I was only-"

"Yeah, well…" Sirius looked ready to go on, but decided against voicing whatever insults had sprung to his mind, returning to his chips in silence. Remus pressed his forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes wearily.

"I'm starting to lose track of who hates who here," Wendy said quietly, and Lizzie nodded in agreement.

"Nobody hates anybody really," Remus sighed, but corrected himself when Sirius glared at him. "Except for Sirius and Juliette…" he admitted with some reluctance.

"Oh, and don't forget, Lily hates these two now," India-Rose pointed to the boys sat on the ends of the rows with a chuckle, and Peter and Sirius both smiled acerbically at her.

"Ooh, and you mustn't forget Prongs hates us too!" Sirius added, his voice high pitched and whiny with mock enthusiasm. He swallowed his mouthful of chips as his lips twisted into a bitter faux grin. "Yeah, we're just one big happy family!"

"What else can you expect from a tightly knit group like us? I mean, there _are_ nine of us after all," Wendy said in a consoling tone, and she shrunk back a little at the raised eyebrows she received. "What?2

"Tightly knit group?!" Peter squeaked. "Since when have we all _ever _been a tightly knit group?"

"Well, some of us are," Remus said kindly, his eyes catching India-Rose's and they chuckled to themselves, as if enjoying a private joke. Lizzie watched them shrewdly out of the corner of her eye, and saw Sirius peering at them with similar scrutiny.

"Yeah, but mostly it's the guys and the girls in two groups," India-Rose pointed out.

"I think I preferred it that way…" Sirius grumbled. "Oh, and whilst we're on the subject of hate lists, I'd like to inform you that you, Remus, are currently on mine, as is Evans." He added firmly, and Remus nodded half heartedly.

"If you say so, Padfoot."

"I do say so," Sirius confirmed, returning his attention to his nutritious meal of chips with a content grin on his face.

"Who's got what next?" India-Rose asked lightly as she reached for her bag. "You know, I really hate these new timetables for NEWTs, I much preferred knowing I was going to be in all my classes with you guys, now I don't do Ancient Runes with you two anymore!" she sulked at Wendy and Lizzie, both of whom looked equally disappointed.

"I know, it's so confusing! Oh, but just you wait for your first lesson of Runes, it's so boring! All theory about 'what we're going to be studying'," Lizzie groaned, which did not help India-Rose's lack of enthusiasm as she traipsed out of the door, making for the stairs towards her next class.

Remus was soon to follow her, and Sirius watched him leave, wondering where the two of them stood. It was clear Remus was on James' side in the argument, but he had been friendly enough over the past day and a half, and for that Sirius was grateful. With a free lesson after a gruelling double lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts before lunch – not made any easier by the fact he had been sat next to a cold and unresponsive James Potter the entire time – Sirius was looking forward to an hour or so of relaxation, being yet to receive any homework.

He began the ascent up the main stairway from the Entrance Hall, having abandoned the last of his cold chips, his thoughts lingering uneasily at the prospect of spending Christmas alone in his London flat, if things hadn't resolved with James by then. What would Mr and Mrs Potter say? They had offered Sirius nothing but love and friendship as if he was a second son, and how was he repaying them? By making misery for their only child. By the time he reached the portrait into the Gryffindor common room, however, he realised that his thoughts were completely pointless.

Of _course_ things were going to be resolved by then. Weren't they?

* * *

"So, are you ready to go through all of these? It might take a while."

"Yes, Lily, I said I was going to make myself useful this year, didn't I?" James replied, grinning along with the redhead.

"I know, but you can barely concentrate for five minutes during theory lessons. And don't get me started on when you write essays! I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to doze off on me," Lily replied, and James chuckled self-consciously. He knew the attention was only being granted as an apology for misplaced blame, but he didn't care; he was sat in a corner of the common room with Lily Evans, and she wasn't shouting at him.

"Ha! Don't you worry. I'm paying strict attention, Miss Evans," he gave her a regimented salute, earning himself a teasing clip around the ear.

"Be sensible! We'll never get this done if you're joking around all the time," Lily ordered, sorting her papers into separate piles.

"Then get on with it, flower," James said mockingly, and Lily glowered darkly at the pun.

"Here are the rotas for nightly prefect duties," she indicated the first few sheets of parchment, and James picked up the first one, skimming over it with a surprising amount of genuine interest. "Then we have other prefect duties. These are the weekend schedules," she waved the second lot of parchments at him, "And then we also have to organise weekends for Quidditch matches to take place and Hogsmeade visits."

James' eyes widened with excitement as he reached for the last parchment, which had a list of dates on them.

"We get to set the Quidditch match timetables?" he asked, his voice sighing with awe and wonder at the very thought of it. "But," he said, frowning slightly. "Wouldn't that be a little biased? I mean, if we're the ones who pick the dates…after all, I am the Chaser and Captain for Gryffindor." Lily took note of the pride in his voice with little pleasure, but was relieved to see he refrained from running his fingers through his hair this time. A small blessing.

"Exactly," Lily said sweetly, snatching the parchment from his hand. "Which is exactly why _I_ shall be the one organising _that_ particular area." James' face fell at the news, and he pouted as he watched the parchment in Lily's hand being placed at the very bottom of the pile. "Now, back to the less interesting tasks," she said, spreading out the lists of prefects.

"Ahh, nothing lacks interest when you're involved, Lily," James said with a smile, and Lily rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.

"How very kind of you, James, but I'm not fishing for compliments. In fact, your compliments are not remotely needed or accepted at this moment in time." Lily kept her voice forceful, and James' eyes widened, his expression hurt.

"Oh Lily, you wound me something terrible with your harsh words," he beat his clenched fist against his chest above his heart, and Lily rolled her eyes.

"Let's just get on with it, okay Potter?" she said irritably.

"Ah-ah-ah! No more surnames, if you recall, _Lily_. It's James now," he said triumphantly as he smirked, and Lily raised a single eyebrow dangerously.

"Or Potter, whatever suits you," he corrected submissively. Lily ignored him, knowing Potter was more than capable of stretching out banter for a good few hours when he wanted to.

"First off, I think it would be best if the Head Boy and Head Girl do their rounds together. It gives a good impression, don't you think? We may as well at least _try_ and look like we can get along." Lily kept her eyes determinedly on the parchment in her hand, hoping with all her might that he couldn't see her blush under his long, warm hazel stare.

"Yes…yes, I completely agree," James said after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Plus that will mean we can pair India-Rose and Remus together, and seeing as they're such good friends I'm sure they'll be pleased," Lily justified, very much disliking the smirk on James' face.

"Oh I quite agree," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You are incorrigible, James Potter," Lily snapped, but couldn't bear to remove the smile from her face.

"What?" he cried in total innocence. "Are you telling me I'm the _only_ one who suspects there's something going on between those two?" Lily threw the boy a bemused expression.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she asked.

"India-Rose and Moony!" James said in an obvious tone.

"No, James…" Lily said, snorting with laughter. "Just no. I guarantee there is nothing going on between them."

"How much do you want to bet?" James asked stubbornly, and Lily rolled her eyes, tracing her wand up and down the prefect list as the names on the page began to rearrange themselves.

"Somehow I don't think the Head Boy and Girl participating in gambling would go down very well," Lily said lightly, and James smirked.

"Just because you know I'm right."

Lily huffed, eyes fixed straight ahead as she tried to ignore his sing song voice. He poked her in the shoulder tentatively, grinning evilly.

"Go on, Lily, admit it. Say it Lily. I'm wrong, James is right. Say it…say it!"

"Ten Galleons says they're just friends," Lily snapped, trying to hide her smirk.

"You're on, Evans," James said, shaking her hand.

"I thought we were using first names now?"

* * *

Juliette smiled as she watched Lily and James from across the room. For once, she wasn't eavesdropping, merely feeling a sense of triumph at the genuine smiles on her best friend's face. She couldn't wait to talk to Lily about that one…

Her joy did not last long. A tall figure blocked her view, and she looked up to watch as Sirius dragged the only free armchair in the common room around to face her, his expression determined.

"You're going to hear me out, Swindon."

Juliette had to give it to him, the hand shaped shadow outlining his cheek from the night before still glowed purple, and he was still trying. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, her thoughts drifting to the telling off she had received from Lily earlier in the day, she nodded.

"Okay, go."

"I don't like you."

"I think we've established that much-"

"Shut up!" he ordered, and Juliette clicked her tongue impatiently, but did as he had so rudely asked. "I don't like you," he repeated. "And you don't like me. So what? We don't have to like each other. We don't even have to talk to one another. We can just about exist happily without driving one another to either murder or suicide, can't we?" he asked, and Juliette smiled despite herself.

"Yes, we can. I was under the impression that was what we were going to try and do this year."

"Well, evidently that plan failed," Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the bruise on his cheek. "So…truce," he stated resolutely, and held out his hand.

Juliette stared at it suspiciously for a few moments, and then took it, shaking firmly.

"Truce," she agreed.

"You sure?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"Get out of my face, Black!" Juliette growled. Her eyes narrowed in disdain, but the corners of her mouth twisted upwards into what could have been an unwilling smile. Seeing her conflicted expression, the boy complied with a willing grin of his own, jogging up the stairs to the boy's dorms.

_One down, one to go_…he thought to himself, and the knot of worry in his chest loosened a little more.


	5. My Brother

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
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_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**4. ****My Brother**

_**Of talking, The Two Bellas, and forgiveness.**_

The first Saturday of the term did not hold much promise. The rain continued to beat incessantly upon the grounds of Hogwarts, just as it had done the day before, leaving every student of the school forced to remain inside the stuffy castle, milling around their common rooms or the library.

James, however, still found reason to smile despite the dreary weather.

After a long argument with Alex Cooper, the Captain of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team, on their first evening at school, he had reluctantly allowed the first Saturday Quidditch pitch time slot to be handed over to the Ravenclaws. He now watched through the window idly as the rain slowly flooded the grounds, spreading from the swollen Lake and showing no sign of stopping. He was now quite grateful for his decision to be the bigger person and give the allotted time to Cooper. Next weekend, when he would be practising with the Gryffindor team, the weather would have no doubt cheered up a little, and they would be able to play without fear of getting lost in a thunderstorm.

His smiles were well received when he entered the Great Hall, taking his seat opposite Wendy – the only other real _early bird_ of Gryffindor's seventh year – who grinned back with equal enthusiasm.

"Someone's in a good mood today," she commented lightly, and James nodded, stuffing as many pieces of bacon as he possibly could into a bread roll.

"You should have seen Cooper's face when he was leading his team out to practice. I saw them leaving just as I walked through the Entrance Hall, they looked about ready to commit murder and start a mutiny." He probably shouldn't have found the possible death of a fellow student amusing, but he reckoned Ravenclaw to be by far Gryffindor's biggest Quidditch competitor this year, and his mood lightened considerably at the thought of them being downtrodden by bad weather.

"Ever the good sportsman, James," Wendy said with a sarcastic grin, and James nodded once more, looking pleased with himself.

"And how are you on this grey and dismal day, Winifred?" he asked jovially, his spirits too high to care when she grumbled a little at the name.

"Ok I guess. I think the truth of the situation being revealed has done wonders for Lily. She's been pretty happy ever since. We've been able to actually _enjoy_ our time in the dorms."

Though James was pleased for the relief of Lily and the other girls being at ease once more, James felt his chest deflate a little at the memory of how very _not fine_ things were in the boy's dorms.

"Is anyone else up?" James asked, and Wendy replied without commenting on the change of subject.

"Nope. Just us, as usual," she said with a grin.

"We really need to learn to sleep later," the young man said, and Wendy shrugged.

"Or…we could just teach ourselves how to wake our friends up without getting mauled or cursed," Wendy suggested.

"Excuse me, have you _met_ Sirius?" James said without thinking, and he paused, his eyes downturned, mentally trying to jump backwards through time by a few seconds and take the line back. Wendy watched the internal struggle, and pity that she knew would not be appreciated filled her expression.

"Oh," she said lightly. "Have you heard of this great new thing that's all the rage right now?" she asked, "It's called...errm…I think something like…_talking to one another_? Yeah, that's it. Apparently it helps with all kinds of troubles, like misunderstandings and arguments. The whole lot!" she smiled brightly, and James didn't return the expression, but his lips did quiver slightly, his eyes lightening in some weak form of amusement.

When James made no reply, the black haired girl continued talking, her breakfast forgotten.

"Or, you could just keep being the stubborn mules we all know the both of you can be when you really try, and make life miserable for everyone else, as well as each other." Her tone was frank, and James was impressed with her. Wendy had never like hurting other peoples' feelings, yet he found himself a little bit stung by her words.

"I'm being immature, aren't I?" he asked sheepishly, and Wendy found she couldn't keep up the stern, commanding persona. She would have to leave that to Juliette and Lily.

"No," she replied kindly, and she almost placed a reassuring hand on top of his for a moment, but reconsidered and instead reached for a bread roll. "You're not being immature, James, you're just…" she struggled for a way to phrase her thoughts. "Well, Sirius _is_ your best friend. Do you really think he meant to _hurt_ you? I haven't seen you argue for so long since fifth year-"

"That was different," James interrupted hastily. The last thing he needed was an interrogation about _The Snape Incident_.

"Well, in any case, you spent almost _two weeks_ not speaking at all. And what became of it? You were forced back into each others' lives when you got yourselves landed in a detention together. Now, are we going to have to wait for a repeat of history, or for once will one of you be the bigger person and just _talk_ to the other one?" her tone, as ever, was frank and plain, and James found he was grateful for it.

"Have you given Sirius this lecture?" he asked suspiciously, and Wendy shook her head. She promised she would at the first opportunity, and James let the matter rest. He knew she was right. Not talking to his best friend was slowly driving him mad. The only problem was he didn't know if he could let go of his pride for long enough to save his sanity.

* * *

"I'm just saying, _if_ there was a guy in your life that we should know about, you'd tell us, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Lily, I would tell you," India-Rose snapped playfully as she rouged her cheeks a little in front of the mirror. The redhead was sat on the floor behind her, legs crossed in what appeared to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable, but Lily professed to be quite the opposite. "Why all the questions all of a sudden? What on earth would suddenly make you think I'm hiding some guy _now_?"

Lily was paranoid. Ever since the stupid bet had been made with James a few days before, she had found herself analysing her friend's every move, whether Remus was in the room or not. It was disconcerting how much she could find to read into the poor girl's actions, and Lily was determined to just get the truth out of her before the wondering drove her to do something silly and, ultimately, embarrassing.

"I don't know!" she cried, "Why are you putting makeup on?" she demanded, "We're only going to breakfast!"

"Lily, _you_ have makeup on," India-Rose pointed out, and the redhead patted her fingertips over her face, smoothing over the powdery softness of her cheeks and the prickly mascara on her lashes.

"Oh, right, yeah," she said dimly, and she scowled as her friend's eyes rolled at her. "Are you sure though?"

"About what, whether or not I'm currently dating someone? I think that's a bit difficult to forget, Lils."

India-Rose was not enjoying this abrupt interrogation at all. It made her incredibly uneasy, not helped by the fact Lily was one of her closest friends, someone she had always told everything to. The more the determined redhead questioned her, the more she felt like she _was_ hiding something…

But it seemed Lily was satisfied for the time being as she linked arms with her friend and they made to leave for breakfast, Juliette and Lizzie having left only a few minutes before. She was confident that her pockets were going to be a little more weighed down by her ten galleon bonus from James, and felt only the smallest bit guilty for using her friend's relationship status as a way to get some extra spending money.

Oh well, she told herself, she could always use some of it to buy India-Rose a present, after all.

"What about you and James?" India-Rose asked with a wink. "Did he spend the whole night asking you for dates and telling you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?"

"No," Lily said with a hint of pride. "He complimented me a total of three times throughout the evening, and only made the flower joke once." The two girls burst into giggles, and India-Rose claimed to be impressed with the boy.

"He must be taking Juliette's advice after all," she said, sounding shocked.

"What?" Lily asked, and India-Rose's grin twisted a little.

"Oh, you know," she said airily, waving her hand in the air.

"No, I don't know," Lily said curiously. "What advice has Juliette been giving him?"

"She was just giving him tips on how to get in your good books," India-Rose said in a consoling voice. "She's known him since they were about five, after all."

"How long has she been giving him tips for?" Lily asked as they began their descent to the Entrance Hall.

"Hmmm, since about sixth year I think. Maybe longer, but it seems he's only really just started listening to it."

"Why would she do that?" Lily asked hysterically, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. "Why would she do that to me? She knows I hate the guy!"

"Didn't look much like you hated him when you were talking last night," India-Rose said suggestively as she winked again, and Lily growled.

"Alright, hat_ed_ him," Lily admitted with the smallest of smiles. "I'll admit he can be quite nice when he's on his best behaviour."

"Aww, he'll be so pleased to know you're coming around to him," the dark haired girl said condescendingly. "Just please, whatever you do, don't go marrying him any time soon. In fact, I'd say at least wait until you're…I don't know, twenty five?" her voice was overly innocent, and Lily's eyes darkened.

"India-Rose Norrell," Lily said as they stopped at the bottom of the steps, the echoes of voices in the Great Hall as people breakfasted trickling through the Entrance Hall as well. "Are you trying to tell me that you took up bet that Juliette tried to start last year about when I was finally going to marry James Potter?"

India-Rose sucked in her bottom lip as she tried to figure a way to break the news lightly to her friend.

"India-Rose!" Lily cried in mock horror. "And to think _I_ was starting to feel guilty about making bets about _you_!" she said, unable to keep her frown of disapproval in place.

"What bet?" India-Rose demanded, sounding nervous.

"Oh, nothing to be worried or ashamed of," Lily said soothingly with a grin. "James was convinced there was something going on between you and Remus." She laughed once more, the idea sounding even more absurd than it had done the night before.

"What would make him think that?" India-Rose snapped, as if finding nothing humorous about the notion at all.

Lily narrowed her eyes suspiciously; paranoia was lining her friend's face, a paranoia that she did not like at all. She looked far too _hand in the cookie jar_ for Lily's liking.

"Are you-" she began, but she was distracted by a figure storming out of the Great Hall, his expression furious. "Sirius!" she cried, but the dark haired boy did not stop as he marched straight past them without a glance their way. Lily threw her friend a _this is not over_ look, and together the two girls hurried into the Great Hall, where their friends were huddled around two copies of the Daily Prophet, all looking a mixture of shocked and upset by the front cover they were staring at.

_DEATH EATERS STRIKE AGAIN_

_Once more the villainous partners in crime known as the Two Bellas lead another brutal attack, this time on the muggle village of Skipton._

Along the side of the page were two photos, each containing a young woman's face, both with dark curly hair and wide, dark eyes that stared menacingly out at the readers. They were very beautiful, but while the first appeared to smirk from the page with a haunting playfulness, the second woman glared with a glittering, intimidating madness they had come to recognise from the increasing horror stories of the Death Eaters' handiwork.

Lily glanced at Juliette, who was staring blankly at the page before her as she read over James' shoulder, her eyes lingering on the caption below the second woman – _Bellatrix Lestrange née_ _Black_. She grabbed her friend's shoulder, and Juliette started at the touch.

"Did you say something to him?" Lily asked in a low voice. Juliette shook her head firmly.

"I didn't say a word, Lily," Juliette said resolutely, when it was clear Lily doubted this very much.

"Well then where did he go?" she asked, and James placed down the paper.

"I'll go and find him," he said in a tired voice. He made his way out of the Great Hall and up to his dormitory to find the Marauder's Map, though he had a good idea already as to where he would find his friend.

* * *

Regulus Black liked being the centre of attention. And, being the only Black family member left at Hogwarts – at least, the only _recognised _family member – he was receiving a great deal of praise from his fellow Slytherins as they revelled over the strength and wonder of his dear cousin's courageous war efforts. His heart swelled with pride as people congratulated him, asking him to pass on messages to the much celebrated Bellatrix Lestrange née Black.

He had not yet been down to breakfast. With his owl – dishevelled thanks to the rain, but still prompt –dutifully dropping off the paper to his dormitory, he had decided against making an appearance in the Great Hall, knowing he would no doubt have to spend the entire morning avoiding the eyes of his brother.

"My brother told me what an inspiring person she is, Regulus," Alexia Rosier said gleefully, patting his arm as she passed by with her fifth year friends. Her brother, Evan, had not been named among those who had participated in the attack, but the majority of Slytherin House were aware that he had most certainly played a role. Alexia was not shy, and the pride she felt for her brother only swelled her own ego further.

Regulus grinned at her. His fingers twirled his ebony wand around vacantly, his eyes flitting around the room. Perhaps the moment that had given him greatest satisfaction, he considered to himself, was the sincere nod of the head aimed his way by Severus Snape, whose opinion was valued greatly within the green and silver House. Regulus was filled with arrogance as he recalled the moment. Severus Snape did not give praise lightly, being a person more inclined to keep to himself for the most part.

"It's all very well reading about it," Beatrice Radisson said, her shoulder resting against Regulus' as they lazed on the couch. "But I have to say I'd much rather be out there myself." Her tone was impatient, and Regulus chuckled at her.

"Two more years, Bea, that's all there is left," he soothed nonchalantly, his attention distracted by two seventh year boys sat in the corner, heads close together as they plotted, though what, the sixth year could not have guessed.

"You plan to join the moment you leave school?" Beatrice asked, her eyes wider than the Galleon that she flipped in her right hand.

"And you don't?" the boy replied. Beatrice smiled guiltily.

"I suppose I do now I think about it. It just seems so strange…leaving school and heading straight into Death Eater ranks." She sounded positively awe-inspired at the prospect.

"Well, some may have to wait longer than others," Regulus said suggestively. "But I already have a place waiting for me. My cousin has arranged it. The Dark Lord knows of me, and has already expressed an interest in my enthusiasm and ability." He did not look at his friend, but out of the corner of his eye he could see her admiring expression.

"Have you…_met_ him?" she whispered, glancing furtively around to make sure they were not overheard.

"Twice," Regulus answered smugly. "He visited the house after Bellatrix was first inducted into the Death Eater ranks, and then he visited a second time when my cousin Narcissa became officially betrothed to Lucius Malfoy. He came to offer his _congratulations_." He emphasised the word with an air of haughty complacency, his smirk uncannily reminiscent of his brother's as Beatrice gasped in astonishment.

"You have no idea how much I envy you," the girl said, her light hazel eyes full of wonder. "I wish my family was as well connected as yours. My parents can barely tolerate my House pride, they would have me shut away for the rest of my life, I think, if they thought they could get away with it. You don't think…you don't think he'll hold it against me, do you?" she asked, suddenly terrified.

"No, I don't think so," Regulus comforted. "You've proven yourself to be a loyal Slytherin, and you're eager to join. He will see how different you are from your family. At least they're mostly Ravenclaws and not Gryffindors. If they were Gryffindors then you might have had a little more trouble." His eyes darkened as his thoughts turned briefly to his brother, and Beatrice seemed to know what troubled his mind.

"Do you know of his…his thoughts on Sirius?" she whispered, her voice so quiet that Regulus only knew what she was saying because he had already guessed her question.

"He was displeased, of course, but I don't think it is anything to worry about. Once he's out of school, my brother has no more protection from Dumbledore or Hogwarts. He'll be disposed of, if necessary."

"But, I mean, he's still your brother, even if he is a Gryffindor. Doesn't that affect you at all?" Beatrice asked, and it was clear that such a thing would clearly have had a profound affect on her.

"He chose his path, I chose mine," Regulus said firmly, but they were interrupted by the opening of the portrait hole as two third year boys raced up to the sixth year boy, a look of terror mirrored in both their faces.

"Regulus!" they shouted as they stumbled over to him.

"It's your brother, Regulus, he's got Seth! He says he wants you to go out to him." The blonde boy Regulus thought was called Ridley said breathlessly.

Regulus growled furiously and pushed the two boys out of the way as he stormed out of the common room and into the corridor, where he was confronted with the sight of his Gryffindor brother holding young Seth Holloway by the collar of his robes, wand pointed to his throat.

"Let him go, Sirius," he demanded, and to his relief Sirius released his grip on the boy immediately, letting him scamper away, terrified, back to join his friends.

"I had to get you out of that damn common room somehow," Sirius said with a sneer, his stormy grey eyes angry and cold.

"Well I'm here now, what do you want?" Regulus asked. The sixth year wasn't exactly small, but Regulus had always felt somewhat intimidated by his older brother, who was tall for his age, and resembled his father very much.

"I take it you've seen the papers today?" Sirius asked, and Regulus chuckled. He had not expected his brother to be so incensed as to actively seek him out over the matter.

"Yes, I have. Good to see our Bella's keeping herself busy, isn't it?" he asked lightly, but his eyes flicked briefly to the wand still clasped tightly in Sirius' hand. He enjoyed provoking the older boy, but the amusement he got out of it wasn't worth spending the rest of the day in the Hospital Wing.

"I want you to stop, Reg."

It took a few moments for the words to register. Sirius hadn't addressed him as such in years.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Regulus asked defensively. It scared him, he realised, how closely Sirius' words had resembled a desperate plea.

"I don't want you going down this road," Sirius continued. "You don't have to turn out like all the others. You don't, Reg. Just forget about all the dark arts, and Voldemort. You're a good person, Regulus, I know you are."

Regulus quelled the seize of fear in his chest and instead rolled his eyes. He had heard a few of these deplorable appeals from his brother in the past, but this was by far the best one yet.

"Forget it, Sirius. We've made our choices. I'm not having this discussion again." His tone was final, but as he made to leave he was stopped again by his brother's voice.

"What happened to the little boy that wrote to me three times a week while I was at Hogwarts without you? You weren't so bothered about keeping your distance from me then, were you?" he accused darkly, and Regulus bit his lip, not daring to turn around and face Sirius. "In every letter you _begged_ me not to hate you just because I was a Gryffindor. And did I? No. I didn't. I replied to every damn letter you wrote, whether I wanted to or not. Was that a wasted effort?" Sirius' snarl was vicious, and Regulus turned, recoiling a little at the hatred in Sirius' eyes.

"I…" he began, but in truth he had no idea what he wanted to say, and was almost glad when Sirius interrupted him.

"When this war really starts; when we're out there, and we come up against one another in a fight…I'm not going to treat you any differently to how I would treat any other of my enemies," Sirius said, his voice suddenly calm. Dangerously calm. And with that he turned, stalking away from the younger boy.

"But you're my brother!" Regulus screamed, and it was only once the words had left his lips that his thoughts caught up with him.

Sirius paused, and swivelled on his heel.

"Brother, Regulus?" he said coldly, and Regulus flinched at the question in his voice. "We have the same parents? Well, I guess you _are_ my brother. But there's more to it than that, isn't there? I can think of someone who I'd call a brother a thousand times before I'd even consider calling you the same. Hell, I can think of _three_ people."

He didn't wait for a reply as he carried on walking away.

"I'd never hurt you, Sirius," Regulus said in a trembling voice, his hands shaking as he watched his brother's retreating back.

"Fine then," Sirius shouted, still not looking around. "Get killed, if that's what you want."

And without another word he stalked back down the corridor. He didn't look over his shoulder again, but even if he had, he still wouldn't have seen the figure that had been watching the confrontation in silence, because James was hidden safely beneath his invisibility cloak, his hazel eyes troubled and his expression concerned.

* * *

Not for the first time, India-Rose cursed to high heaven the day she inherited her pale skin from her mother's gene pool. It only made her blushing all the more difficult to conceal.

She sat in the Library, and Madam Switt – the Librarian whose unfortunate surname had earned her many cruel nicknames among the students of Hogwarts over the years – had left the West Wing of the Library some time ago, and the gentle murmur of voices was louder than usual. Opposite her sat Remus Lupin, the boy that some of their friends seemed to be under the impression she was secretly dating. She watched the frown between his sandy brows deepen a little more, the tip of his quill scratching idly on some scrap parchment as he read through his potions book.

"Of all the times Sirius decides to disappear off the face of the earth, it has to be when I have potions homework, doesn't it?" he grumbled. India-Rose chuckled.

"Remus, you'll be fine. You've written half a roll of parchment already," she pointed out encouragingly.

"Yes, let's forget Slughorn asked for _two_ _rolls_, shall we?" he grunted bluntly, and India-Rose rolled her eyes. She knew it was a lost cause, trying to convince the boy he was going to be alright when he was certain he was going to fail, but that didn't stop her from trying.

"Just get on with it, grump features," she said playfully, "The quicker you get this done, the quicker you can help me with my charms homework." Remus threw her a good-natured _oh, how helpful of you_ look before returning to his essay, muttering what could easily have been death threats aimed at Professor Slughorn under his breath.

India-Rose watched him as he worked, her own homework long abandoned.

Should she tell him about the bet? No doubt James would soon be fishing around the same as Lily had done. What would Remus say? Would he laugh, or be disgusted? It pained her to think he would be horrified that his friends thought they were secretly a couple. And yet it hurt no less to think Remus may well simply laugh it off as a good joke.

Why did their close companionship automatically make them romantically attached? They were just good friends, as they had been for years. Since first year, in fact. She was, after all, the first one to work out what he was, and as such was in turn the first one to accept him for who he was.

That clearly meant something to Remus, as he'd been grateful for her friendship for six years and had never hesitated in showing this gratitude. They'd confided their secrets in one another. She'd even told him about what the Sorting Hat had said to her, and he'd reassured her that there was nothing wrong with being given some advice from it. He'd told her quite plainly that she had nothing to worry about; she was not at all as arrogant as the Sorting Hat seemed to paint her, and her qualms had been pacified by his words.

"Oi, Indy, yoo-hoo!" India-Rose started as Remus waved his hand in front of her face, close enough to see every crease in his palm. "What's with the thousand yard stare?" he asked, and India-Rose felt her cheeks grow warm with yet another blush.

"Nothing, _Ree-Ree_," she replied. "I was just thinking…" her voice tailed into nothing. She wasn't sure that 'thinking about whether or not I'm attracted to you' would go down well at all.

"Thinking about…" Remus prompted after a few seconds. India-Rose shrugged.

"Nothing important…just this homework," she said abruptly, and Remus narrowed his eyes a little in suspicion, but did not press the matter.

"Well," he said kindly. "Give it another six or seven hours and I _might_ have finished this potions essay, and then I'll be able to help you."

"Thanks," India-Rose said, and then regretted it. Why was she all of a sudden so weak-kneed at the thought of Remus helping her with her charms essay? He'd been doing it since they were eleven years old!

She watched, fascinated, as Remus brushed a few sandy brown strands of hair from his face, his lips pressing out into an irritated pout as he struggled to understand a word that was written in his book.

"Why?" he demanded out loud to his book. "_Why_ does it turn purple?" he despaired.

"Because the porcupine quills react with the venom. The herbs level out its potency," India-Rose explained without a second thought. Remus frowned grumpily at the book, then looked up and smiled brightly at the girl.

"Thanks," he said, and began scrawling down the explanation before he found something else to be confused about.

India-Rose, however, was fighting the urge to throw something. The beam on her face was almost impossible to conceal at the sincere smile the boy had given her, and she hated herself for it.

_Stop it, you idiot_, she scolded herself internally, _you're acting like Lizzie when she's infatuated with someone_.

But as her eyes followed the gentle lines of the boy's face before her, she knew she was fighting a losing battle. It was something that had laid dormant inside her for years, awakening when Lily finally voiced what India-Rose had kept locked away inside her head for longer even perhaps than she was aware of.

There was only ever one secret that she kept from Remus: the fact that, given half a chance chance, she'd grab his face with both her hands, pull him in for the kiss of the century, and never let go.

She scowled. With thoughts like this, she'd soon lose all right to mock James and his fanciful dreams of a happily ever after with his Lily-flower.

* * *

Sirius should have known he would not be able to enjoy solitude for long.

He was too preoccupied with reading the Death Eater attack article to look up, but he both heard and felt the intruder clamber into the hidden passageway where he had found refuge. He was ready to tell them where they could go and what exactly they could do when they got there, but when his eyes strayed from the newspaper his voice caught in his throat as he found himself looking into the face of James Potter.

"Wh…Prongs?" he asked, and James smiled ruefully.

"Apparently," he said, the ghost of a smirk hidden in his expression. His hazel eyes found their way to the paper and he settled down into a comfier position, snatching the Daily Prophet from his friend, much to Sirius' dismay.

"Oi!" he protested, but James held it at arms length away from the other boy.

"Nope, I'm not letting you sit here and mope about how your life is in the shithole because your arse of a best friend made a big deal out of a silly mistake, and your cousin is a raving lunatic with a knack for killing people."

Good old James.

"You've got a real way with words, did you know that, James?" Sirius asked, and James nodded proudly.

"I know. I should become a public speaker."

Sirius snorted with laughter, and James punched his arm lightly.

"Sorry for being so angry with you," he said gently.

"Sorry for ruining your love life," Sirius replied with equal sincerity, and James grinned.

"Oh, I don't think you've totally ruined it. In fact, Lily feels so guilty about blaming me for something that wasn't my fault she's changed the prefect rota around so that we're on patrol together."

"Who's Remus with then?" Sirius asked, and barked with laughter when James mentioned India-Rose.

"Well, that'll make them _both_ happy. Extra alone time for the love birds," he said with a conspiratorial chuckle.

"_Thank you_!" James cried, waving his hands in manic excitement. "Someone agrees with me!"

"About what?" Sirius asked.

"Moony and India-Rose being secretly in love," James said, and Sirius barked with laughter.

"Why, who thinks they're not?"

"Lily!" James said, and Sirius frowned.

"Are you sure you've been chasing after the right girl all these years, Prongs? Your Lily isn't half as bright as these teachers seem to think she is. Has she not seen the two of them together?" he paused for a few moments, then turned an accusatory eyes on James. "Why haven't you said anything to him sooner?" he demanded.

"Why haven't _you_?"

Their eyes met, and they grinned in anticipation.

"Tonight?"

"Tonight," James agreed, and their eyes glittered with mischief as they contemplated the ambush Remus was soon to receive.

Sirius continued to smile even after their laughter at the thought of Remus' surprise and embarrassment died away. He hadn't even realised how much he had missed James, even though it had only been a few days since their argument. He'd felt incredibly guilty, and a part of him wondered why James was being so forgiving so quickly – the boy was as stubborn as a mule, Sirius thought to himself – but was glad of it, nonetheless.

"Now, are you going to stop sulking with this damn newspaper?" James asked, and though his voice was light Sirius knew James was speaking sincerely. He nodded, and James sat the paper on his own lap, glancing over the picture, his eyes resting on the first girl, whose caption read _Isabella Potter_.

"The Two Bellas," James said in disgust. "That was what they were called at school, wasn't it?" he asked, and Sirius nodded.

"Inseparable from day one's what Andromeda always said."

"Remind you of anyone much?" James asked, nudging Sirius, and they shared a meek smile.

"How are you even related to her?" Sirius asked, indicating Isabella, with her sweet, playful eyes that hid a thousand dark secrets.

"A cousin's cousin's cousin twice removed on my dad's side, pr something," James said with abhorrence. There was a moment's silence, and then Sirius spoke again.

"What does twice removed even mean?"

"I don't know. Sounds kind of cool though."

* * *

With fresh news of the attack on Skipton appearing in the Evening Prophet, Gryffindor common room was alive with the buzz of discussion that night. Safe and cozy thanks to the blazing fire warming the room, the Gryffindors clustered together in groups, some talking in whispers, fearful and anxious, others in angry yells, swearing vengeance upon the villains that were wreaking havoc across the country.

Two seventh year boys, however, seemed to have had enough of the depressing talk of war.

James and Sirius tussled and rolled around the floor, laughing as they wrestled, wands left to one side to avoid cheating. In the last three years James had not yet beaten his friend once.

Sirius found this highly amusing. James, it appeared, did not.

There had been no formal announcement of their friendship being remade; they had simply chased one another into the common room half way through the afternoon. They ignored the stares of their friends, though James did not fail to notice the look of pride and satisfaction on Wendy's face as she glanced up from her divination book, her chair surrounded by papers covered in ancient symbols and dream interpretations.

"I don't think I've ever seen two more immature boys in my life," Lizzie said, though her smile was fond, and when she received no answer from the boy sitting next to her she nudged him. "Eh, Peter?" she said with a grin, but he continued to stare at the ground. "What's wrong?" she asked, and at the genuine concern in her voice Peter raised his eyes from his shoes.

"It doesn't matter. Just silly anyway," he said, and Lizzie nodded. She wasn't going to pry. If Peter wanted to say something, he would say it.

They returned to their contemplative silence, and Lizzie watched the occupants of the common room with a keen eye.

"It's just…" Peter said hesitantly, his eyes flitting to the blonde girl, who was listening silently and attentively. "So far tonight James has done no more than wave at me. Once. Is that supposed to mean we're all forgiven? Or just Sirius? Because he hasn't said a word about it to me, but Sirius has clearly been let off." He finished grumpily, frowning at the pair, who had given up their wrestling and were now trying to transfigure one another's chess figures into ridiculous looking animals before they commenced their game.

Lizzie frowned a little. She was firmly sticking to her plan of not getting involved, and in truth this was not her comfort zone. If Peter was looking for sympathy he would have been better off looking to Wendy or India-Rose, or even Lily.

"Oh you know those two," she said lightly, trying to dispel Peter's concerns and her own guilt with a chuckle. "They get themselves all worked up and hyper, and then forget everyone else around them. Hmm?"

"Yeah…I guess," was all Peter replied with. Lizzie considered pressing further, but swiftly thought the better of it. Instead she allowed her attention to be claimed by a handsome face directed her way from the other side of the room, and her smile was flirtatious as the sixth year boy walked towards her, the troubled boy at her side swiftly forgotten.

* * *

Juliette closed her eyes. She could hear Lily stood beside her not three feet away, but luckily the curtain of her four poster bed hid her from view. The redhead was saying her name, trying to discern whether or not her friend was asleep. Juliette kept her breaths heavy and even, and before long Lily gave up, turning and heading back downstairs to the common room.

Juliette knew it was silly to be in bed so early. Sleep was never going to come to her when it was barely nine o'clock, but her restlessness was growing unbearable, and she'd retired to the dormitory without a word.

Hiding beneath her duvet she waited for sleep, driving all thoughts from her mind; thoughts of the Black family, thoughts of death, thoughts of war, and thoughts of cruel laughter ringing in her ears.


	6. Letters

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**5. ****Letters**

_**Of little jokes, passing notes, and Venemous Tentacula.**_

Remus Lupin had lived in the company of his best friends for long enough to know when they were plotting something.

This, he considered as he watched James and Sirius mutter together in undertones from across the dormitory, was definitely one of those occasions. His eyes narrowed at the furtive glances he was receiving from them. He could not say he had particularly _enjoyed_ the past few days spent running between two arguing boys…on the other hand, at least while they were not speaking, they were also not scheming.

Especially given that he was their third favourite target (after the Slytherins and the Gryffindor girls of their year, of course.)

They had seemed on the verge of just about _jumping_ on him the night before, but had been cut short when Lily came storming in, ranting to James about being late for prefect rounds. Sirius had not spoken a word about their schemes all night after that.

This only made Remus all the more nervous. If Sirius was unprepared to do it alone, that meant either he was too cowardly, or James would be very angry if he proceeded without him. And regretfully he admitted to himself that the latter was not only much more terrifying, but also a great deal likelier.

He stood, silencing the two boys with a look, and they smiled innocently as they skipped over to join him. He cast a questioning glance to Peter once he had let the pair overtake him, but the other boy seemed as much at a loss as himself.

"You know," Remus said conversationally as he made his way down to breakfast. "I almost thought I had gotten away with it, too. We're starting the second week and they're yet to do something to me. I should have known this peace wasn't set to last," he mumbled glumly.

"Oh, don't be so doom and gloom, Moony!" Peter encouraged with a laugh. "It can't get any worse than last year, can it?" he asked.

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?" Remus asked dramatically, forcing away the memory of unseasonal cursed mistletoe and magical barriers from his mind, shuddering a little. As Peter insisted that he was clearly making him feel better – a view not altogether shared by Remus – the two entered the Great Hall which was full of chattering students, and made their way to the end of the Gryffindor table to join their friends.

Remus smiled as he took his seat beside India-Rose while Peter took the seat on his other side, but he suddenly felt a great heave around his waist, disturbingly reminiscent of a lasso, and before he could so much as yelp in surprise he found himself sprawled on the ground, a baffled India-Rose beneath him as two raucously laughing boys stood over them. He could feel India-Rose's breath on his neck as she shrieked for him to get off, and he stood awkwardly, doing his best to concentrate on where he was putting his hands.

He glared at the two, who did not look in the least bit remorseful, and saw the blushing India-Rose reseat herself with what little dignity she had been left with, fixing her robes which had been momentarily pulled up towards her thighs. He hoped his cheeks were not too red as he reluctantly sat down again, not even caring about why Lily was throwing irritated glances James' way.

At that moment, whatever James had done to upset Lily could not be half as bad as the day Remus seemed to be in store for.

Because he knew, as much as he hated to admit it, that that was not all it was going to be. If last year they could start off the term by watching delightedly, as one of their closest friends avoided all human contact for an entire day so as to evade being forced to kiss them in order to keep from being stuck together by magical bonds, then one little stumble on India-Rose was hardly going to be the end of it.

One question bothered him though. Why, of all the girls in Hogwarts that they could have chosen, did they have to choose _her_?

"Alright there, India-Rose?" Sirius asked with a grin, and the girl's uncharacteristic glower did nothing to remove the look of satisfaction from his face.

"What exactly was that for, Black?" she demanded. The use of his surname said something for the level of her anger, and sobered Sirius up slightly. But only slightly. Remus knew better than to expect him to actually say the dreaded word _sorry_…as he caught Remus' eye, Sirius simply smiled before striking up a conversation with Elizabeth without another word said on the day ahead.

* * *

"What was with James and Sirius' little jokes today?" India-Rose demanded, and Remus shrugged, his quill tip never leaving the parchment. His eyes flicked towards the girl as they travelled from his essay to the board, upon which was written the transfiguration notes he was copying. He let out a growl of frustration when the girl nudged his arm, causing a smudge to make the previous three lines unreadable.

"What?" he snapped, and India-Rose frowned.

"At breakfast they pushed you into me, in Potions they got all excited when they were talking about Amortentia with you, and Sirius kept giving me really weird looks like he was ready to spike _me _with a batch of the stuff. Now they keep flicking bits of paper at you and _don't_ pretend you haven't noticed."

Before Remus could reply another ball of paper met his temple with considerable force and he caught it out of instinct. He returned his attention to the girl staring accusingly at him, who indicated to the object.

"Go on," she urged, and Remus rolled his eyes and unravelled it. Reading the sentence through once, he shook his head and scrunched it back up.

"It's nothing, just asking for help because they weren't listening earlier. You see? Nothing's going on," he smiled jokingly, even adding his little half-wink, but India-Rose wasn't convinced. As the last few minutes of the lesson passed by she kept her eyes on the little note that had fallen to the floor among the others, forgotten at Remus' feet. Once the boy had stood to leave at the cue of the bell India-Rose stooped to grab it, and her eyes travelled across the single sentence. She found herself stuck somewhere half way between crying and laughing.

She chose to laugh, deciding it was the least likely to attract unwanted attention.

"What's so funny?" Elizabeth asked as she jogged to catch up with her friend, and together the two girls made their way towards Herbology, wrapping their arms around their bodies a little tighter to block out the chill that had taken hold of the castle grounds.

"Nothing," India-Rose said with a smile.

"Nah-ah-ah," Lizzie said, linking her arm into her friend's and giving the dark haired girl a nudge. "Tell, tell, tell. _Or_," she said with a smirk. "Perhaps more accurately, _spill, spill, spill_," she winked conspicuously.

"It's nothing, Liz," India-Rose said, her eyes on the ground and her fingers curling tighter around the note.

"What's that in your hand?" Lizzie asked shrewdly, pale green eyes narrowing. India-Rose clenched her fist and again told her friend it was nothing, which only deepened the blonde's curiosity. "Give. Now," Lizzie ordered, and when India-Rose didn't comply Lizzie wrestled it from her without much difficulty.

"Jeez, Liz, where on earth did you learn to wrestle so well? It's not like you've got any siblings to practise on," India-Rose grumbled, massaging her hand when it was clear the stronger – and unhelpfully taller – girl wasn't going to return the note.

"It's not my fault if you're not very strong, you'd think having a scrappy big brother would have done _something_ to build up those muscles of yours. Or should I say _lack of_…" she pinched her friend's bicep cheekily, but when India-Rose made no response other than to fix her eyes on the ground, Lizzie slipped an arm around her friend. "Hey," she winced, biting her lip guiltily. "Hey, sorry…I'm sure he's ok, you know? He'll write soon," she promised.

India-Rose shrugged, scuffing her feet and rubbing at her eyes with a sudden weariness.

Lizzie grunted wordlessly, despairing.

"Urgh, do you want me to give you the note back? Will that make you forgive me?" she asked, and India-Rose chuckled weakly.

"No, you can read it if you like, I would probably have gone to you about it first anyway. This is your area of expertise," she admitted, and Lizzie's expression turned quizzical as she smoothed out the parchment and read it eagerly.

"Who wrote this?"

"James and Sirius, they wrote it to Remus," India-Rose said, unable to conceal her grin.

"_Has_ he said anything to you then?" Lizzie asked, and India-Rose quirked an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"Remus of course! Have you been keeping this a secret from me?"

"No! I only read it this morning."

"So?"

"So what?" India-Rose asked, and Lizzie huffed in impatience.

"So…what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," India-Rose said firmly, and Lizzie's near shriek of horror had her flinching in fear, and several onlookers who were following the same route towards the greenhouses glanced at them.

"India-Rose Norrell – '_Norrell is a good choice, best you ask her out soon before we do it for you'_ is slightly more than a subtle hint. This is serious. Now, are you going to talk to him about it?"

"No!" India-Rose replied in exasperation. "I don't even know if he likes me. I'm not going to embarrass myself."

"Ha!" Lizzie cried in delight, "So you _do_ like him then?"

There was a slight pause, in which the dark haired girl thought about her reply, making sure to avoid all eye contact with her friend. "I guess I've never really thought about it," she finally said. "Now shh!" she ordered as they entered the greenhouse where their class had gathered in their places.

Madam Sprout's instructions were brief, as their ongoing project was relatively simple. Well, in theory it was simple, but there was a reasonable difference between _talking_ _about_ successfully raising a baby Venomous Tentacula and actually doing it. Much to India-Rose's delight, she soon found herself next to Lizzie with her Tentacula, standing at arm's length with her dragon hide gloves on and her sleeves rolled up.

"So," Lizzie began again, almost unaware of the writhing vines intent upon throttling her. "Now that you _are_ thinking about it, do you like him?"

"Drop it, Elizabeth!" India-Rose said. She caught Lily's eye from across the greenhouse, where the redhead was staring at her frustrated expression with interest. _You ok?_ Lily mouthed to her, and India-Rose nodded, turning back to the task at hand without waiting to see if Lily had believed her or not.

"No way, Missus. I'm going to nag you until you spill. India-Rose, I don't care if there's a war going on out there. For once just let me be a normal teenage girl and get excited when one of my best friends has a crush on the cutest geek in our year."

"Remus is not a geek!" India-Rose hissed, internally slapping herself when she realised she hadn't denied Lizzie's words. Lizzie, on the other hand, grinned widely, and India-Rose didn't even bother hoping her friend's happiness was due to the successful feeding of her plant.

"Look, India-Rose," Lizzie panted as she stepped out of reach of the killer plant to rest. "James and Sirius know Remus better than anyone, except _maybe_ you. They would know if he liked you, and they wouldn't say something like that to him unless they were sure. Which they clearly are. And now that we've established you both have the hots for each other, it's time you do something about it."

"Eloquently put, Liz," India-Rose said sarcastically. "But like you just said yourself, I probably know him better than James and Sirius, and seeing as I have never really seen any reason to think he likes me in any way other than the friend I've been to him for years, then I'm going to go by my own judgement, thank you very much."

Lizzie merely shrugged in mock nonchalance, smiling at her plant with far too much enthusiasm to say it was a poisonous killer.

"Prongs no, stop it, get off…_James_!"

India-Rose felt something hit her shoulder and fall to her feet, and looking down at the ground she saw that it was a dragon hide glove with the initials _R.J.L_ woven into the lining. She picked it up and turned to see Remus stood before her, looking a mixture of irritated and embarrassed, and his mumbled thank you as she handed it back to him was almost silent. He returned to his place quickly, and once back at his plant he proceeded to hit the dark haired boy repeatedly over the head with the removed glove.

As James' protests died down, India-Rose took one look at the smug expression on Lizzie's face and seriously considered following Remus' example.

* * *

James sat on his bed, the sounds of chattering finding their way up to the dormitories from the common room as his eyes skimmed over the half interesting news of the Evening Prophet. He had been enjoying solitude for almost an hour when he was interrupted by the shuffling sound of reluctant feet on carpet. He looked up to see Juliette standing in the doorway, her fingers wrapped around what appeared to be a letter.

"Yes?" he asked with a smile, dropping the newspaper and shuffling over on his bed to make room for the girl to sit. But the girl remained at the door without replying. "Juliette?"

When finally she looked up, he could see her pale face was flushed. Her dark eyes were red-rimmed and her mess of curls had been scraped back tightly, making her angled face seem even sharper than usual. She licked her lower lip nervously, where the skin was raw and bitten by worrying teeth.

"Can…can I stay with you at Christmas?" she asked quietly, and James swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he was sitting upright.

"I guess, yeah," he said, watching her as she walked quietly up to him to take a seat by his side. He eyed the letter in her hand warily. "Why?" he asked, and Juliette looked up, her glassy eyes framed with smudged mascara.

Her gaze moved slowly from the neatly written words, across to the boy's hands, then up to meet his eye. Her lips pressed together, shame in her glittering eyes.

"They don't want me back," she said. Her chest rattled with her shuddering breaths as she leant into his embrace. "They s-said after the attack on the…the town that th-they think it would be b-better if I keep away," she stuttered, handing James the letter which he read through briefly with disgust.

"You don't need them. There's more than enough room at mine." He smiled at her, her temple pressed to his jaw, a tear managed to sneak between her damp lashes and trickle down her cheek as she coughed her gratitude.

"They've never had a problem before," she said thickly. "I've been living with them since I was nine, for goodness sake!" she ranted, shaking her clenched fists angrily in the air. "Now they think Bellatrix is going to come after me and, and finish what she started. It's like _they're_ the only ones who suffered. They weren't there. They didn't see it. He's my Uncle! He promised my parents he'd look after me if anything happened. And now look at them," she said shakily. "Running at the first sign of trouble. Good for nothing Gryffindors. They don't deserve to have been in this House."

James squeezed Juliette's shoulders and she calmed down a little, taking back her letter and crumpling it a bit more in her hand.

"Jules," James began lightly, not wanting to completely push the girl into a pit of depression and misery, but deciding it was better to get it out of the way, "You do realise Sirius is going to be at the house nearly every day? I mean, I know he moved out when his Uncle left him all that money, but he doesn't stay in his flat very much. He's at mine most of the time. I can't ask him to not come over," he said delicately. "You know I want you to stay, but wouldn't it be, well, _easier_ if you stay with one of the girls?"

Juliette shook her head, not even attempting to sit up straighter. She simply leaned on James' shoulder.

"There's no-one to go to. Lizzie's parents are taking her away for Christmas, because she didn't go away with them in the summer; Wendy's family don't have the money to feed another person all holidays India-Rose can't have people staying, not with her dad the way he is…" she lapsed into silence, fiddling with the edge of her letter.

"What about Lily?" James asked, and Juliette shook her head.

"If it was summer it would be ok, but she always does that big family Christmas thing, doesn't she? Her parents and sister and her, it's the only time she's completely happy at home." Juliette sighed wistfully, and James nudged her sharply.

"Do you think Lily would be happy if she knew you weren't happy?"

"I'm not dumping this on her, Jamie," Juliette said firmly. "Please?"

"Of course you're welcome to stay, but Lily'll flip when she finds out you didn't go to her for help. She's the most caring soul I've ever met. She'd want you to go to her."

"Oh, my heart is bleeding with guilt," Juliette said snippily. "James, I'm not taking away the only family quality time she gets. Black…Sirius has already done that to you, so me being at yours won't matter so much," she smiled a little and winked as James nodded.

"Ha! Well, I suppose you're right. I just didn't think you'd be singing and dancing with joy at the idea of spending Christmas with Padfoot," he pointed out, and Juliette groaned.

"Ahh, I'll live. It'll be good practise for the _not_ wanting to kill him that I'm going to have to get used to." James chuckled, and Juliette let her smile widen until she was able to ignore the tear still clinging to her cheek, her head resting on the boy's shoulder.

"How long were you stood outside that door for?" James asked, the ghost of a grin on his face.

"A while," Juliette said quietly, a tremor in her voice, though whether from tears or laughter he couldn't tell. Comfortable in their loose embrace they lapsed into silence.

Juliette was grateful for her friendship with James Potter. It hadn't exactly been strong before they started school, but she had needed the friendly smile of someone she knew when she first started. Ever since then he had always managed to be there at precisely the right time. Of course, he had also been there on several occasions at the _wrong_ time, but at least he was there for the right ones as well.

"So," James said, never one to enjoy silences for long. "Has Lily let you in on the bet?" he asked.

"About India-Rose and Remus?" Juliette asked, and James nodded eagerly. "My money's on you, Potter," she said with a smirk. "Well, to be honest I'm half and half, I don't think they're secretly dating, but they should be. They're insane for wasting so much time pretending not to like one another."

"Moony and India-Rose? Well, it appears Swindon and I finally agree on something," Sirius said with a smirk. The pair on James' bed flinched; they hadn't heard him enter, and Sirius paused at the door for a moment before closing it behind him slowly. His eyes lingered momentarily on the damp streak running down the girl's face, but made no comment as he threw himself onto his own bed with a satisfied groan of exhaustion.

"Of all the things, eh Black?" Juliette said, subtly rubbing at her cheeks before standing. "Okay, best get back to my own dorm, I suppose," she sighed as she stood. Her letter was tucked safely up her sleeve out of the way, James noticed, and she patted his head before leaving. "Thanks, James," she murmured quietly, and James waved at her as he watched her go.

"Bye!" Sirius cried, his sarcasm a little obvious, but was ignored by the girl as she left. James turned to glower at his friend, who shrugged innocently.

James considered telling Sirius that Juliette would be joining them over Christmas, but decided against it. That conversation would be saved for another time, hopefully when Sirius would have more time to vent out his tantrum in one go, and then admit he didn't really mind anyway and would promise to be a good boy.

* * *

"What's wrong?"

Juliette flinched as she nearly walked into the suspicious redhead waiting for her in the common room. She froze for a moment before shrugging.

"Nothing much, just needed to talk to James," Juliette said coolly. Lily frowned, taking a sidestep to stop the girl from passing by.

"Tell me," she ordered, and Juliette huffed impatiently.

"I just needed to sort out some arrangements with James. Cool it _Lily-flower_," she said with a casual smirk that Lily could see right through, but pretended to accept.

"Well, if there was something wrong, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?" she asked, and Juliette barely hesitated as she nodded, a smile gracing her face, and together the pair began their ascent towards their dormitory. Juliette cleared her throat as they reached the door.

"Okay Norrell," she said loudly, "Prepare to answer all questions," she bellowed, swinging the door open with a hard push. She paused in the doorway as she saw India-Rose stood by the open window, a tawny owl flying out of sight. As she turned the two girls could help but notice the tiny diamond sparkle glistening on her cheek that she wiped away hastily, biting her lip and looking fearfully at her friends.

"Oh please no," she groaned with a nervous smile.

* * *

The quill felt heavy in her hand, but India-Rose gripped it tightly, a scroll of parchment in her other hand as she walked up the stairs towards the dormitories that Juliette had just vacated. Sighing in relief at the sight of the empty dorm before her, India-Rose walked over to her bed, grabbed the first book to hand, and laid her parchment down to lean on.

Without much pause for thought she placed the quill tip in the pot of ink by her bedside and began to write.

_Dear Brogan,_

_It's been almost a month now, you need to write to me, even if it's just a few words to tell me you're safe. Summer was ok, I stayed out of dad's way for the most part, but it's always hard without you around. Liz mentioned you today, and I suddenly realised how much I miss you. You should be home, there's a guy I really like, and you need to be here to check him out and tell me whether or not you approve._

_Please come home and exercise your older brother rights. You owe me that much._

_School's not too bad, seventh year is actually kind of fun, you probably would have liked it if you'd stayed at school long enough to enjoy it. Thanks again for selling out your flat to Sirius, he says he needs to meet you again sometime so he can say thanks properly for it, apparently it's a great location, though he spends most of his time at the Potters' house anyway. He only sleeps there. In fact he'd probably let you sleep there too if you came home, so you wouldn't have to worry about staying somewhere, seeing as I know you won't stay with dad._

_Dad has a new girlfriend by the way, she's ok, better than the last one, but it's annoying having to control my magic around her. I'm going back home for Christmas, maybe you can visit? No, obviously not at the house, but if you got in touch with Sirius the two of us could use the flat. I'm sure Sirius would have no problem with staying out of the way for a few days so we could have some family time together. Like I said, he'd probably be happier at James' house anyway._

_Get your arse back to England, you useless lump of a brother. I need you!_

_Lots of love,_

_Indy xxx_

India-Rose looked up to see her owl, Singer, waiting at the window, and she brushed his feathers with her forehead as she tied the letter to his leg. He nipped at her hair lightly, and then took off into the darkening night.

"_Okay Norrell, prepare to answer all questions_!"

India-Rose flinched at the sound of Juliette's voice, and turned as the door swung open, barely managing to wipe away the tear she hadn't even realised was there before the girl, closely followed by Lily, entered.

"Oh please no," she mumbled, and Juliette nodded excitedly.

India-Rose turned to Lily, who shrugged, not looking at all ashamed of herself.

"Don't worry, India-Rose," the redhead said in a sympathetic voice. "You have until Lizzie and Wendy get back to work out what you're going to say for yourself."


	7. Normalcy

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**6. ****Norm****alcy**

_**Of confrontations, birthday pranks and Hogwarts' resident stud.**_

"Please, please, _please_ will you just talk to her?" James begged, ignoring the carpet burns on his knees that were result of his slide across the floor towards Remus' bed.

"There's nothing to talk about, Prongs," Remus replied, eyes never leaving from the book in his hands.

"Stop it with the pretend reading act, Remus, it doesn't work," Sirius said, and walked over to join James on the floor. He gestured to Peter, but the fourth boy shook his head. The other two might have been oblivious to Remus' growing impatience, but he could see the nervous twitch that caused Remus' forefinger to tap rhythmically against the corner of his book, and Peter's self-preservation kept him a good distance away. "Okay, how about as a birthday present to me?" Sirius asked, his eyes wide and reminiscent of a puppy.

"It's not your birthday until tomorrow, Padfoot, and I've already _bought_ you a present." Remus said in a bored voice. Sirius huffed.

"You realise we're only going to get worse the longer you wait, don't you Moony?" James asked, moving to rest his elbows on the duvet.

"If you have any sense of honour or compassion you'll just stop it, the both of you!" Remus snapped, throwing the book at his closed trunk where it fell to the ground, open at page fifty-six.

"Moony, what is wrong with accepting that fact that you are going through the lust-I mean _love _pangs of any normal teenager? Embrace your hormones, friend! Sirius has been a slave to his own since he was what, ten?"

"Oi!" Sirius yelled, slapping James around the head without refuting the remark.

"Because I'm _not_ a normal teenager!" Remus growled, a flash of pain in his eyes. And with that he pulled back his covers and slipped beneath them without another word.

James and Sirius paused, turning to one another, and then to Peter, wondering what to say.

"Yes you are," Sirius tried.

"Shut up, Sirius."

"Look, India-Rose clearly likes you as well; she's known about your furry little problem for a long time. If she thought it was an issue she wouldn't like you, would she?" James said gently, placing a hand on Remus' arm, relieved when the boy didn't try to shake it off.

"Oh, so if she isn't going to think about her own safety, I shouldn't think about it either? _Someone_ has to be sensible," Remus said, his back turned to the boys and his voice muffled by his pillow. Sirius frowned, and James considered placing a hand over his friend's mouth before he could say a word, but Padfoot spoke before he got the chance.

"Err, Moony, seeing as I doubt India-Rose was planning on partaking in bestiality, I don't think your monthlies are going to put her in any real danger."

The pillow crashed into the side of his face as the last word left his lips, closely followed by a fist, a foot, and then another fist.

"Oi, cool it, Moony, stop, _Moony_!" James grabbed Remus around the middle and heaved him off Sirius, who was sprawled on the ground with his arms around his head, yelling incoherently.

"Shut up Sirius, shut the _hell _up. Just stop talking _right now_," Remus ordered, and forced himself out of James' grip, chest heaving and eyes glassy. Peter stepped lightly off his bed, walking slowly towards his friends, not sure where to stand and remain out of arms reach of the sandy haired boy.

James could feel Remus shaking beside him, and glancing down he could see that the boy's fists were clenched tightly. Sirius sat up warily. His left ear was bright red, as was most of the left side of his face, and he patted his lip gingerly, checking for blood.

"That wasn't supposed to come out like that," he said, eyes flicking between Remus, who looked furious, Peter, who looked concerned, and James, who looked conflicted, though less than amused.

"You think?" Remus asked, and though his eyes were filled with anger the ghost of a smirk twitched on his face. Sirius nodded, and a tentative grin started to spread across his lips. "Oh get up, you arse," Remus said impatiently, and held out a hand to help pull a relieved Sirius to his feet. "No more crude comments," he ordered sternly, and Sirius nodded.

"Point duly noted," he said, saluting his friend.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed," Remus said deliberately. "And I do not wish to be disturbed, birthday tomorrow or no," he warned.

"Nighty night!" Sirius said with a sarcastic wink, and Remus rolled his eyes before slipping under his covers again. "What?" Sirius demanded, looking between James and Peter, who were exchanging looks of amused concern

"Nothing _dearie_," James replied, patting Sirius on the back before making his way to his own bed.

"Night Padfoot," Peter said, following suit. Sirius merely shrugged and, sliding into his warm bed, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him.

Silence took hold of the dormitory, soon broken by a series of deep breaths as first Peter and then James drifted off. Remus, however, lay in the dark, eyes open and glassy.

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"She really doesn't care," Sirius said quietly.

Remus closed his eyes.

"I know. That's what makes it worse."

* * *

"I don't know how long, okay? I never really noticed," India-Rose admitted shyly, drawing out a frustrated groan from Lizzie who had managed to squeeze herself, uninvited, under the dark haired girl's covers, too.

"You are impossible, woman!" Lizzie screeched, and Juliette nodded in agreement from her position on her friends' feet at the bottom of the bed. Wendy perched on the windowsill by India-Rose's head, and Lily was on the floor, her legs curled beneath her.

"Look, drop it guys. Please?" India-Rose asked, and the girls rolled their eyes in unison, grumbling and whining at the girl.

"Why don't I spill first, then _you_ go?" Lizzie asked with a grin, and Lily let out a hoot of laughter.

"No way, Liz, we've been here what, a week? And you've already found someone?" the redhead asked, not sure whether to be amused, impressed, or alarmed. Lizzie nodded, her tongue sticking out between her teeth and her eyes alight with excitement.

"He's a Gryffindor too, for once!" she said, clapping her hands together.

"But Liz that would make him…" Juliette began, one eyebrow raised, and Lizzie's expression dropped a little.

"Yes, yes, I know he's younger than me, but only by a year!" she pointed out in a matter of fact tone. "Not even a year, really. He's one of the oldest in sixth year, so he's only…" she mimed counting on her fingers as she worked it out. Lily caught India-Rose's eye and chuckled playfully. "Five months younger. And he's lovely. You're all going to like him a lot, I promise!"

"Who is he then?" Juliette gave in, unable to bear the stream of hints that Lizzie was about to run through before someone asked.

"He's called Christian," the blonde sighed dreamily.

"Isn't that a religion?" Juliette asked, turning to Wendy.

"It's a name too, idiot," Lizzie said with a grin. "You might recognise him. He's the one with the biggest, bluest eyes you've ever seen on a guy; and he's got brown hair streaked with blonde, and-"

"Oh no, you don't mean _Sunderland_ do you?" Lily asked with a groan.

"Yes!" Lizzie shrieked, and India-Rose joined in with Lily's disparaging sigh. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's a solid member of the Potter-Black stalking club, second in command to Clarissa Sandberg. He copies _everything_ they do, and he's a pain in the arse for sneaking out after hours," India-Rose explained, patting Lizzie's dark gold hair gently.

"So?" the girl asked, and Lily threw her hands up into the air in defeat.

"Leave her alone," Wendy said with a smile. "If she likes him then she likes him, isn't that right, Liz?"

"Thank you, Wendy," Lizzie replied smarmily. "I'll like who I choose, thank you very much. And I like Christian Sunderland. _India-Rose_, on the other hand, likes Remus, and now we're going to talk about that."

"Urgh!" India-Rose shrieked, twisting under her covers to scream into her pillow, consequently throwing a squawking Lizzie off her bed. "I shall find no peace in this place!" she screamed, unable to hide her grin. "Okay: yes, I like him. No, I don't want to confront those feelings right now. Yes, I swear you four shall be the first to know when I _do_ want to talk about it. Happy now?"

She looked around at her friends and didn't like the all-knowing look on Lizzie's face, but refused to say any more on the matter.

"Satisfied, not happy," the blonde replied. "If that's all you have to offer, I suppose it'll do…for now," she added pointedly.

"So…Christian?" Wendy said innocently, and Lizzie launched into yet another infatuated, winding description of him, this time going into greater detail, most importantly his utterly _delightful_ laugh and the utterly _adorable_ quirk in his left eyebrow.

_Thank you_, India-Rose mouthed to Wendy. _Welcome_, the dark haired girl replied silently, and they returned their attentions to Lizzie quickly, just in time to hear her start explaining about her plans for their first date in Hogsmeade.

Juliette smiled, happy for Lizzie that she'd found another poor soul to cling on to, absently wondering how long this one would last.

* * *

When Sirius Black awoke on the seventh of September it was to find his dormitory empty. Each bed was neatly made, and it seemed not one of the Marauders had waited for him.

"Just you wait until _your_ birthday, Potter," he grumbled, and though he knew he probably should be getting dressed, he made his way down to the common room to see if they were waiting downstairs for him.

Empty.

"What the hell?" he said, and jogged back up to the seventh year boys' dorm. After rooting through his trunk for a moment he extracted the gold watch he had received from the Potters on his seventeenth birthday. It was eight o'clock in the morning.

_Never _was every member of Gryffindor house at breakfast by eight in the morning. And though it was customary for James to rise at ungodly hours, Remus and Peter were much less inclined to be punctual when it came to breakfasting routines.

"Guys?" Sirius asked nervously, walking back down towards the common room for the second time. "Err…Prongs? Moony, Wormtail?" he said. Something brushed against his arm and he squealed, flapping his hands about to ward away whatever had neared him.

When it became clear there was nothing there, he laughed tensely. The empty silence was somewhat unnerving and he could feel the prickly sensation of being watched.

His pyjama clad state of dress forgotten he walked straight out of the empty common room and into the equally empty corridor.

"Oi!" he shouted, but nobody other than the Fat Lady portrait answered, and he hadn't the time for her grumbling. He continued walking, bare feet growing cold on the stone floor, occasionally shouting the names of his friends, other times calling even for one of the girls.

"Juliette Loretta Swindon!" he shouted, knowing full well that if someone was going to answer, it would be Juliette out of simple irritation.

But nobody did.

Portraits watched him, looking almost _amused_, but he was too busy trying to work out how he had managed to miss a large scale evacuation of the school. Or whatever it was that had caused him to be the only one left behind.

"This _really_ isn't funny," he said, walking across the silent Entrance Hall.

The Great Hall was empty. Literally not a single soul in sight. Sirius wasn't sure if he'd ever been in the Great Hall when it was unoccupied before. There was _always_ someone in there.

"Hello!" he shouted. The silence was so painful he almost felt inclined to scream as loud as he could, just to fill the emptiness.

He began to call out again, but was interrupted, turning his shout into a shriek as something invisible grabbed his wrist, and he shook it off violently.

"Get off, get away, fuck you, what the-" he reeled off, smacking the air around him ferociously.

"Hello?" he shouted again, and reached for his wand, only to remember it was still back in his dormitory. "Aww, hell. Of all the times, Black, you idiot," he scolded himself, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "I'm going insane," he murmured.

"I completely agree," Lizzie said brightly, and Sirius' head snapped up to see the blonde watching him from her seat. Actually, not just the blonde.

The entire body of students filling the Great Hall had their eyes on him.

"Mr Black!" Professor McGonagall bellowed as she stalked towards him. "Would you kindly explain to me the meaning of your uncouth and humiliating behaviour?" she demanded, and Sirius' brow puckered as his mouth opened and closed without words.

"But…" he said, wondering how best to explain a most disturbingly vivid hallucination in which he was alone in the castle. Perhaps he had been sleepwalking. _Yeah, sleepwalking_, he thought to himself reassuringly.

This idea was soon shattered, however, as he caught sight of James sat at the table, fist all but shoved down his throat and a look of hysterical glee on his face,

"I'm sorry, Professor," Sirius said, alternately giving the Deputy Headmistress a look of apology and glaring at James, who sat between Remus and Peter, both of whom looked no less pleased with themselves.

"Then kindly go and get dressed, and meet me in my office at six o'clock tonight for a detention. Disgraceful behaviour, Black. Utterly disgraceful."

Sirius nodded lamely as she turned and walked away, very much aware of the giggles and eyes surrounding him from all tables.

"You're so funny, aren't you?" he asked his friends, all of whom nodded eagerly. "I'm going to get dressed," he informed them with what little dignity he could muster. "And when I return you are going to tell me about whatever it was you did to me. Because as much as I hate you right now, it was ruddy marvellous."

* * *

"Come on! Hurry up, Wormtail!" James said.

"I'm coming!" Peter replied as he had jogged down the last few steps that led from the dormitory to the common room.

"What are we doing up so early?" Juliette moaned, and Remus nodded.

"I agree, did we have to make it so early, James? It's not even eight o'clock yet!"

"Moony, you traitor!" James said, "Are you telling me we should just let that bugger get away with what he did to me on _my_ birthday?" he asked.

"But James," Remus said, "Pete and I were both a part of that as well!" he said exasperatedly.

"I know," James said with an evil grin. "And just you wait until _your_ birthdays."

The eight seventh years stood by the portrait hole, waiting to leave for breakfast. Only James and Wendy seemed fully awake, though Remus and Peter – albeit sleepy – were, like James, excited. The girls, on the other hand, were utterly clueless.

"Why? What did Sirius do on your birthday?" Lily asked, and James threw his arms up into the air in impatience.

"Don't you remember? You know, with the Transfiguration lesson, and the, umm, alcohol, and the…embarrassing incidents?" he explained, and Lily's eyes widened.

"_Oh_, that's what that was about! How did you manage to get even the slightest bit drunk before first lesson?" she asked, not sure whether to sound impressed or incensed.

"Ask Remus," James said darkly, and the redhead, along with her friends, all looked to the sandy haired boy, who was grinning reluctantly.

"Well, with the right spells you can conceal the taste of strong alcohol in a drink…" he admitted sheepishly. "And if someone was already wound up and hyper about turning seventeen they wouldn't notice if the taste of their drink was only slightly off, would they? James was foolish enough to keep drinking whatever cups of juice Sirius offered him," he shrugged simply, and Juliette burst out laughing.

"You have to admit James, that was pretty good of them."

"Not as good as _my_ idea for Padfoot!" James claimed, pouting like a stubborn infant. "Tell them, Moony!"

"It _is_ clever," Peter piped in.

"Safe?" Wendy asked nervously, and James nodded.

"Of course!"

"Well, it's not like _all_ your past pranks would have passed safety regulations," India-Rose said. "Are you going to tell us?"

"Wait, there he is!" Lizzie said, pointing at the staircase to the boy's dorms.

"_What the hell_?" Sirius murmured, before running back up the stairs.

"What's wrong with him?" Lily asked dangerously, not entirely sure the three boys had been honest about the safety of their little joke.

"Honestly, he's fine," Remus reassured her. "We just put a little selective sensory deprivation spell on him that. To him it's going to look like the entire castle is empty. He can't see or hear us."

"That is really quite impressive magic," India-Rose said, and James felt like pointing out that it was _his_ idea, but decided against intervening, seeing the admiring look she was giving Remus.

"But can he feel us?" Juliette asked, and the three boys nodded.

"Yup, watch this," Peter said, approaching Sirius, who had just ran back through into the common room. His hand reached out and tapped his friend's shoulder, causing Sirius to squeal loudly, starting a series of hysterical laughter from all the occupants of the common room, and not just the seventh years. The rest of the Gryffindors watched curiously as Sirius batted the air around him, his expression paranoid, and several even began shouting to him.

"Come on, let's go," James said, and he walked out through the portrait hall, closely followed by the other seventh years, with Sirius trailing at his own confused pace not too far behind.

"It's a bit cruel, don't you think?" Lily asked, stepping into line with James. "And not very in keeping with your new, mature self," she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh come on, Lily!" James begged, smirking. "Just allow me this one joke. One joke to get my own back!" he pleaded. "I promise I'll take it off him soon. I just need to get him into the Great Hall where everyone can see him."

"In his pyjamas, though?" the redhead asked with a guilty smile.

"Wouldn't have it any other way. Too good an opportunity to miss, my dear Lily," James said jovially. "Come on, hurry up guys!" he called back to the others.

"_Juliette Loretta Swindon!_"

"Right!" Juliette bellowed, and Remus grabbed her wrist before she could get too close.

"Leave it, Juliette," he begged. "Please, he wants someone to answer him. You'd be doing him a favour by letting him know you're there."

Juliette growled under her breath and glared at Sirius.

"Fine," she muttered, and began following the rest of the Gryffindors down the main flight of stairs and straight into the Great Hall.

"Where is he?" India-Rose asked, peering through to the Entrance Hall once the Gryffindor seventh years had taken their places at the table.

"He's coming," Lizzie said, sounding almost as excited as the boys.

"I'll admit, Prongs, this is pretty good of you," Remus said.

"You did most of the work, Moony," James pointed out, and Remus shrugged.

"Yes, but I'm not twisted enough to think of pulling a stunt like this on one of my best friends."

James simply smiled innocently, as if he didn't understand what on earth Remus was talking about.

"Here he is!" Wendy said, grabbing their attention, and they waited with great anticipation as Sirius began to walk towards the Gryffindor table, looking utterly perplexed.

The snickers didn't take long to break out, people pointing and hooting with laughter, calling out to Sirius who took no notice of them whatsoever, frowning at the table before him.

"Sirius?" Clarissa Sandberg said gently, taking his wrist as she approached him with her sultry pout.

"_Get off, get away, fuck you, what the-_" he squealed, flapping his hands again and causing the girl to open her mouth in horror and stalk away back to her friends, looking furious.

"Now?" James said, pulling out his wand as Remus did the same.

"Now," agreed Remus.

"_I'm going insane_."

Out of the corner of her eye Lizzie saw Moony and Prongs move their wands in identical sweeping motions, Remus silently and James muttering a little under his breath. "I totally agree," she said brightly.

"You really do need to learn nonverbal, you know," Remus muttered impatiently under his breath, and James nodded half-heartedly, pressing his knuckles to his mouth to stifle his laughter as a bewildered Sirius Black stared at them with a mixture of surprise, admiration and absolute fury.

"You're so cruel," Lily mumbled under her breath from across the table.

"I know," James agreed with a wink.

* * *

"I have to say, _not_ the nicest way I've been treated on my birthday," Sirius groaned as he threw himself into an armchair in the common room.

"Don't get too comfy. You've got a detention soon," Peter warned him, and Sirius threw him a dirty glare. "What? It's the truth. And don't blame me, it was Prongs' idea!"

"Why does that not surprise me?" Sirius asked, rolling his eyes towards the Head Boy.

"Hey! You got lucky. I was hoping for at least a week's worth of detentions with that one. Running around school in your pyjamas? That has to be worth more than one night. I got three days of detentions for your trick."

"Has it not occurred to any of you how cruel it is to get the birthday boy as many detentions as possible?" Wendy asked from her seat, which was situated directly in front of the fire. In her hand she held a divination book, which was covered in annotations, all scrawled in her own loopy handwriting.

"I'm just getting my own back for my seventeenth," James protested lazily. "Wasn't me that started it, it was those three!" he pointed accusingly at his friends, and Sirius smiled a little ruefully. "And don't pretend you're sorry!" James continued, trying his best to look annoyed. "I know you only regret it because I got you back."

"Well, to be honest, I think I got a worse deal than you, Prongs. I mean, at least on your birthday we gave you presents in the morning. I haven't had a single gift yet!" Sirius pouted.

"Yes you have!" James chuckled. "My mum sent you an entire apple pie that she'd made, _and _you didn't give me a slice of it. And my dad sent you that magazine. Which, by the way, you are _not_ allowed to show my mum. Because even though you've lived with us for a while, she treats you like a guest, so I always get the blame." He glowered at Sirius, who simply stuck out his tongue in reply.

"I meant from you guys," Sirius sighed dramatically. He exhaled loudly, his expression reminiscent of a disappointed Madonna.

"Oh, if it will shut you up, your present is in my bag, sat on my bed," Remus caved, laughing.

"Mine's sat on top of my trunk!" Peter shouted across the room as a yowling Sirius raced up to the boy's dorms.

"What about one from you?" Wendy asked pointedly at James, who shrugged.

"He'll have to wait."

"Why?" Wendy asked, and James chuckled.

"Because, Winifred, we promised Lizzie she'd be there when we got the bike out, and it's…to do with that," he replied cryptically

"Oi, enough of the name," Wendy muttered, returning her eyes to her book.

"Moony you sexy beast I love you!" Sirius screeched as he ran towards his friend, hugging both Remus and then Peter in turn. "You guys are the _best_!" he yelled, directed the last word at James with a pointed laugh.

"Is that…" Wendy asked, the stony silence she had been giving James failing as she stared at the first of two books in Sirius' hand.

"Yes," Remus said with a fond smile at Sirius. "The original and complete set."

"But-" Wendy said, not quite sure what to say.

"Tigger is my favourite," Sirius said proudly, his smile making it look like he was trying to show off all his teeth at once. "Because he's just like me!" he danced the book around for a while and, rather than try to get an answer out of him, Wendy returned her gaze to Remus, looking for a coherent answer.

"My mum left me her old copy when she died, and I bring it everywhere, even Hogwarts; for the sentiment, you know?" he explained, "And in our first year Sirius found it and fell in love with Tigger, especially once I told him he reminded me of him."

"I see," Wendy said, putting down her book and shifting in her seat. "And…is that another book, Sirius?"

"I know, who'd have thought it? Sirius can read!" James cried in wonder.

"Yup," Sirius said, reading the title aloud. "_Muggle Inventions, Volume Twenty-Three: Vehicles, including cars, bicycles and motorbikes_. It's from Wormtail."

As Wendy laughed, asking aloud how she couldn't have guessed as much, Sirius turned his expectant eyes on James. The Head Boy, however, shrugged with apparent ignorance.

"Patience is a virtue, Padfoot," James smirked, batting away his best friend as Sirius let out a long, loud whine of frustration.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Lizzie asked suspiciously, staring intently at India-Rose who was barely a step away from being out of the portrait hole. At the other side of the room Sirius appeared to be dancing around with something in his hand, causing great hilarity to those surrounding him; it appeared the dark haired girl was using this distraction as the opportunity to escape the confines of the common room.

"Err…prefect duty?" India-Rose replied, and Lizzie raised her eyebrows.

"Don't lie," she said in a bored voice.

"I'm not!" India-Rose protested.

"Yes you are."

"How would you know?"

"Because Remus is still sat over there," Lizzie pointed at the group of boys clustered around what looked surprisingly like a book; Wendy sat a few feet away from them, an open smile on her face.

"Oh, okay then," India-Rose replied. "Well, I'm just going for a walk!" she said brightly, and without waiting for a goodbye from Lizzie she continued walking until she was through the portrait hole and alone in the cool, empty corridor.

"Wait up, missy!" Lizzie said gruffly, rolling her eyes with impatience and linking arms with the reluctant India-Rose.

"I don't want to talk about it!" she said angrily, trying to pull away from the blonde's steadfast grip.

"About what?" Lizzie asked innocently.

"Remus, or Christian, or anyone," India-Rose snapped, and Lizzie smiled.

"Okay then, we won't talk about them," she accepted.

India-Rose stared at Lizzie, who looked completely sincere in her offer. Slowly India-Rose nodded and began walking slowly down the corridor, arm in arm with her friend. Their silence was, as ever, companionable, and India-Rose found herself comforted by it. Even more so than usual.

She wondered vaguely how it had come to this. The moody blonde girl who had spent her first week at school avoiding the conversations of her fellow classmates turning into this bright spark who never interfered, but was always there. Not that Lizzie was always the perfect friend, India-Rose thought to herself as they turned a corner, walking down towards the fourth floor on an aimless wander. Over the years she had shown a side to her that wasn't always popular among her friends. It sometimes bordered on what they long called _Sirius humour_ – the same kind that landed him in so much trouble on their first seventh year night, India-Rose recalled with a melancholy sigh.

"We could talk about someone else?" Lizzie offered abruptly, and India-Rose turned her head sharply.

"Who?" she asked darkly, and Lizzie shrugged.

"Whoever you want to."

They returned to their comfortable silence, but it didn't last long. India-Rose knew why Lizzie had followed her out into the chilled corridors, and it wasn't to gossip about how Lily was finally warming to James.

"He still hasn't written back!" India-Rose finally said, caving in after a moment's hesitation.

Lizzie didn't say a word, acting as nothing but an ear to talk to as India-Rose vented whatever had been bottling for longer than anyone seemed to notice.

"He's been gallivanting off here, there and everywhere for over a year, and all I've had are a bunch of lousy letters. It's not my fault he and dad can't make things right. He doesn't have the right to leave me, it's not like _I_ blame him for what happened. He's left me here with dad, who hates the magical world after what happened to mum, and now I don't even have him to go to when things get to be too much.

"He doesn't even need to see dad if he stays in England. What's he doing running around the world doing sod all with his life? He says he's making up for the fact that he didn't go to Azkaban. Says that now I'm all big and grown up, and can look after myself, he can go make peace with the world…Chickenshit."

"Chicken-what?" Lizzie interrupted despite her plans to keep quiet, looking amused. India-Rose's watery glare turned into a hint of a smile.

"I heard it on some muggle film that dad was watching," she admitted. She started to gnaw at her lower lip now that she was no longer speaking, and Lizzie swung an arm around her friend to give her a tight squeeze.

"You finished?" she asked, and India-Rose nodded. "Okay, then can I speak?" she asked. Again, India-Rose nodded. "Have you told him you feel like this?"

"Of course!" India-Rose said loudly, looking horrified. "I tell him in every letter. But he won't bloody well answer me!"

"When did he last write to you?" Lizzie asked tenderly, trying to coax the girl back down to human decibels.

"At the start of the summer. Even if he was on the opposite side of the world he'd have got at least two of my letters by now," she groaned, hitting her head against her friend's shoulder with frustrated ferocity.

The silence that followed her statement exactly why she told all these sorts of things to Lizzie. India-Rose wanted nothing more than to wallow in self pity and sulk about her situation in life.

Had she told one of her other friends, Lily would have started offering hundreds of solutions to the problem; Juliette would have sent Brogan Norrell a letter of her own telling him exactly what she thought of him and his attitude towards his sister of late; Wendy would have suggested plenty of reasons as to why exactly Brogan may not have replied.

Lizzie just let her wallow. Soon – sooner than she liked – India-Rose knew one of her other friends would take over. Soon one of them would notice, and then she'd start drowning in all the sympathy they would shower over her, stuffing her with feel good chocolate from Honeydukes.

But for now, at least, Lizzie was there to stand by her side while she brooded.

* * *

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Sirius said breathlessly.

"It looks ridiculous," Juliette sneered, chuckling lightly. Sirius glowered at her.

"She's beautiful," he sighed, running a finger over the cool metal, lightly tracing the handlebars.

"She?" Juliette asked.

"Yes. She. Her name is…" Sirius began, but his voice tailed to nothing and he turned away without finishing his sentence. Juliette snorted loudly.

She was lying on James' bed, stretched out with one hand behind her head, and she looked utterly unimpressed by the gleaming motorbike that had become a centrepiece in the boys' dormitory. Unable to contain himself Sirius had taken up the habit of stroking it every few minutes, as a loving owner would his faithful pet.

"Where are they? I've been back from my detention for ages, they should be here by now!" he whined, and Juliette looked up from the small book she held in her hand only long enough to throw the boy a disparaging look. Sirius' expression uplifted, however, as the sound of footsteps could suddenly be heard coming from the staircase.

"_Ready_?"

James' voice was just about audible outside the door, which presently swung open to reveal Lizzie looking terribly excited. Lily was stood not far behind, her expression dubious, as was Wendy's. India-Rose looked mildly interested, and though he tried to contain it, Remus couldn't help but grin at the sight of the contraption from where he stood beside the dark haired girl. Peter was furthest back, and his squeal of triumph was loud and clear as he pushed his way through the crowd of people to stand in front of it, admiring it with an appreciation that pleased Sirius.

"Oh Sirius!" Lizzie sighed, reaching out to touch the shining black metal. "James…It's gorgeous."

"_Thank you_!" Sirius cried, sticking his tongue out at the still uninterested Juliette, who had reluctantly scooted over to allow Lily to perch on the bed as well. "At least someone understands. What do you think, Moony?" he asked, and looked up to see Remus nodding.

"Yes, it's very good, Padfoot. Can't say I'd call it gorgeous, but very good," he admitted, and though Sirius wasn't too sure if Remus was simply saying it to please him or not, he beamed anyway. He looked towards the three girls yet to speak, and his face fell at the sight of Lily's expression.

"It's just a bike," she said, sounding bemused.

"Prongs!" Sirius bellowed, "I forbid you from marrying this woman!" he roared, crouching over the motorbike as if protecting it from the redhead's harsh words.

"Calm down, Sirius. No sense in ruining lives over this," India-Rose said with a gentle smirk, much to James' embarrassment and Lily's irritation. "But she's right, Sirius. It's still just a _thing_. Are you really that materialistic?" she asked.

Sirius opened his mouth in horror, traumatised.

"How dare you say such a thing!" he screeched. "Out! Get out of my room! Go, now. A thing? A _thing_? How dare you…_you're_ a _thing_, Norrell!" he cried, patting the bike soothingly.

"Oh, stop with the hysterics, Black," Juliette grumbled.

"You stop with the hysterics, Swindon!" Sirius retorted. "She just called my baby a thing!"

"Oi, Padfoot!" James yelled, grabbing Sirius' attention and ending the whimpering of '_not a thing_' that carried on under Sirius' breath even after he'd finished shouting. "You can have your present now," he said, holding up a neatly wrapped present, complete with bow and twirled ribbon.

"Prongs…" Sirius said in an awed voice. "That's a bit fancy," he said, raising his eyebrows mockingly.

"Don't be fooled, Sirius," Lily said with a snide grin. "I wrapped it for him because he was making a fool of himself."

"Yeah, well, at least the present inside was all my idea." James sniffed, pretending to be hurt.

Without waiting Sirius began shredding the beautiful wrapping paper away, and his face lit up with joy as he began leaping up and down excitedly.

"Do you think he likes it?" James whispered in Lily's ear, before Sirius proceeded to launch himself at his best friend, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek.

"Padfoot!" James yelled, "Unnecessary!" he groaned, looking sulky. "A simple thank you would have sufficed, you know," he grumbled, but Sirius was too busy showing his present to the rest of the Gryffindors to listen.

"Put it on then!" Wendy encouraged with a smile. Sirius' grin was infectious, and she found herself laughing along with the boy. Sirius stopped his prancing for long enough to slip his arms into the thick leather jacket.

"Ahh," he sighed, eyes closing and face relaxing as he raised an arm to his nose and sniffed the sleeve lovingly. "Real leather," he said with a dazed expression on his abruptly placid face.

"Yes, I think he does," Lily agreed, reaching up to whisper her reply to James.

Sirius opened his eyes as he walked over to his motorbike. Still wearing the jacket he swung one leg over the seat and surveyed himself in the mirror from across the room.

"It's official," he cried happily, eyes shining with pride. "I'm Hogwarts' resident stud."


	8. A Moment Spoiled

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Disclaimer__: 'Oh __My Darling Clementine' belongs to Percy Montrose._

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**7. ****A Moment Spoiled**

_**Of Quidditch, tears, and a new pet.**_

"Troll."

"Bitch."

"Git."

"Harpy."

"Man whore."

"Thank you!"

Juliette rolled her eyes as Sirius grinned at her from across the table, both of them ignoring the dirty looks they received from the redheaded girl sat with them.

"Was that necessary?" Lily asked when the pair returned to their breakfast. They nodded in unison.

"Helps us vent any bottled up anger," Juliette explained simply, winking at the girl.

"Bloody therapist would do that as well, you know," the redhead muttered as she scraped the last of her scrambled egg from her plate.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Lily sighed. She was pleased that the genuine arguments had diminished somewhat between Juliette and Sirius, but the constant throwing of lazy insults was starting to grate on her nerves. "Shouldn't you be down at the Quidditch pitch by now?" she asked them both. Her watch read ten thirty-three. She was sure she had heard James tell them to be in the changing rooms by ten-thirty during his common room pep talk the night before.

"Yup," Sirius said calmly, eating his bacon at an uncharacteristically slow rate.

"He's probably haemorrhaging right now," Lily pointed out. "Are you being deliberately cruel?"

"Lily-flower," Sirius said firmly, placing his fork carefully back on the table to gesture with both hands. As he waggled his fingers playfully, Lily noticed a peculiar scratch on his hand that looked as if it had not long healed, but before she could ask Sirius had launched into a tirade. "Last week James had us wake up at five in the morning to train, and then wouldn't let us have breakfast until ten. By the time I got to the breakfast table there was no bacon _or_ fried eggs left. Yes. I am deliberately putting my best friend through hell. Perhaps he will learn not to torture us with his early birdishness."

Lily just about managed to turn her smirk into a scowl of disapproval.

"I know you don't take Quidditch as seriously as James, but this is his last year. He just wants to win." She wasn't quite sure why she was defending the Quidditch nut, considering she had been down-putting him for his obsession for the past six years.

"He won last year," Juliette said grimly. "And the year before, _and_ the year before that. And you didn't even start going to Quidditch matches until I joined the team," she pointed out, brows raised suggestively.

"Well…yes," Lily said, a little flustered. "But as Head Girl I have to show enthusiasm."

Juliette grinned. It was funny, but it seemed to her that Lily was doing a _lot_ of things recently that fell under her '_Head Girl Duties'_.

"Is everyone else coming?" Sirius asked, and Lily nodded.

"I think so…Wendy always supports the team; Remus and Peter never miss a match if they can help it; India-Rose has been to every match, even in first year, before any of us were on the team; and Lizzie will _obviously_ be there. Christian's on the team."

"I can't believe she's going out with him," Sirius muttered, much to the amusement of the two girls sat before him.

"Why not?" Lily asked incredulously.

"Because he's such a man whore!" he said indignantly.

"Well he learnt from the best," Juliette replied snidely. Sirius threw her a sarcastic smile.

"In case you haven't noticed, I go out with stupid girls. Elizabeth Harding is not a stupid girl."

"Oh dear, Hogwarts' resident stud has had his heart captured by the blonde beauty that is Elizabeth Harding," Juliette said with a smirk. "Why do you care whether she gets her heart broken or not?"

"I don't. But I do think that Sunderland has about as much integrity as a Death Eater. I tried to get Prongs to kick him off the team, but our dear captain said that it was wrong to build our team based on personal prejudices." He rolled his eyes at his friend's logic, and stood abruptly.

"Think we've tortured him long enough, Swindon?"

Juliette glanced at her watch, which read ten thirty-eight.

"I think so. Get moving, Black," she ordered, and together they exited the Great Hall. Lily was vaguely aware of the sounds of their bickering – which over the past couple of weeks had begun to sound disconcertingly close to friendly– restarting the moment they left the table.

She rolled her eyes. For one moment, a moment in which she felt strangely out of character, she actually felt sorry for James Potter.

* * *

When they entered the changing rooms Juliette and Sirius were not disappointed by the way they were received by their captain, who was bright red in the face, his hair even messier than usual and his expression infuriated.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, looking from one culprit to the other, both of whom widened their eyes and shrugged innocently.

"Sorry Jamie," Juliette said. "We had breakfast together and, well, the conversation was just so stimulating we lost track of time."

In his manic state, for a few seconds James actually believed her. He looked curiously from one friend to the other, almost smiling. And then Sirius smirked, and James' softened expression was replaced by a look of foul irritation.

"You are both going to regret this," he warned them. "Just you wait until next practice," he threatened.

"Ooh," Sirius squealed in a girly voice, but at James' growl he swiftly turned his attention to finding his Quidditch gear and getting changed.

"Those two are suicidal," Marianna Westley, a fourth year and the youngest member of the team, said to the Keeper, a sixth year named Iain Quincelin. Iain chuckled, nodding as he watched the Captain pace backwards and forwards, waiting for the teams' third chaser and second beater to take their seats.

"Okay," he sighed once Sirius and Juliette sat down at their own leisure. "Luckily I said most of what I needed to say last night." There was a mumbling of agreement. It was the general opinion of the team that James had said _more_ than he needed to the previous night, when they had sat for almost three hours listening to him drone on about technique, co-operation, and defence strategies as thoroughly as if he feared an attack from Voldemort himself half way through the match.

"We should be getting moving," Christian Sunderland pointed out, tapping his watch.

"Yes," James said quietly, looking suddenly ill. "Good luck everyone. Fly your best…and thanks for putting up with me."

There was a collective laugh as each team member clapped their Captain on the back on their way out. All except Sirius, who flicked James' nose affectionately, and Juliette, who patted his head condescendingly, having to reach up to run her fingers through his mop of scruffy hair.

* * *

"There he is!" squealed Lizzie, pointing at Christian who was standing behind Sirius as the team stood in single file, James at the front as he shook the hand of Regulus Black, who captained the Slytherin team, with surprising civility.

"Yes, Lizzie, we know," Wendy said in a tired voice. The blonde, too busy trying in vain to catch the attention of her officially-now-boyfriend – as she had been reminding her friends at every opportunity – had not yet realised that they were one person short of the usual crowd. India-Rose was nowhere to be seen.

Wendy had thought about asking Remus, whose seemingly undying loyalty to his friends had given him cause to drag himself out of the hospital wing early to watch the match even after enduring the full moon the night before, but with the way he and India-Rose had been acting towards one another recently, she decided not to.

Especially after his birthday prank he three days ago.

"Have you seen India-Rose?" Wendy asked Lily, who stood on her other side, leaning against a post and watching the grounded players with uncharacteristic interest.

"No," the redhead replied, wrenching her eyes away from the game that was about to start and shaking her head. "She was still asleep when I left the dorm, and I haven't seen her since. You know Indy," she said. "She can sleep for hours when she has nothing better to do. Remember during sixth year when she stayed in bed all day during the Easter holidays? She slept until four o'clock in the evening."

"I think that was more something to do with the fact she had drunk her weight in Firewhiskey the night before, Lil," Wendy said hesitantly, and they shared a nostalgic, pitying laugh.

"We'll go and check on her after the match. But if she's asleep I refuse to wake her up. She's almost as bad as Liz when it comes to being dragged out of bed."

Wendy nodded, and both girls returned their gazes to the pitch in time to see all fourteen players kick off the ground and soar into the air.

The commentary, spoken in the hypnotically monotonous voice of Caldwell Selwyn, a sixth year Ravenclaw, began, but Remus didn't listen. His mind was only half on the game anyway. If they won Sirius and James would give him a blow by blow account whether he was there or not, and if they lost they wouldn't want to talk about it.

His eyes strayed vaguely over James passing the Quaffle to Juliette, who had agreed to fill in on a one off at the start of their sixth year and had ended up staying as part of the team ever since. He clapped half heartedly along with the squeals and shrieks of his fellow Gryffindors when James scored the first goal of the match, and even smiled a little as he saw the boy run his hands through his hair as he passed, earning himself groans of adoration from the majority of the girls and a scowl from Lily.

He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with India-Rose, finding out what was wrong with her. The last time he had seen her had been the common room the night before, when an owl had arrived at the window carrying a package for her. She had taken it up to her dorm and not returned.

And now she was missing a match?

No, something was definitely not right.

Then again, he wasn't too sure if he wanted to be around the girl after what had happened on his birthday.

True to his word, James well and truly repaid Remus for the seventeenth birthday incident, much to the delight of Sirius, who had been told nothing about the plan at all.

It had happened during breakfast, and James had been banking on India-Rose sitting next to Remus as usual. For once in his life, Remus regretted the fact she decided to do just that. Within seconds the magical bonds had snaked their way up their arms, his right arm and her left, linking them together with surprising force.

With an unlocking mechanism spell set on a timer for midnight, not even Professor McGonagall had been able to remove it. Of course, this resulted in James being rewarded a detention, not Remus, but Prongs had deemed it '_well worth it'_, seeing as Remus and India-Rose had had to survive the day in great discomfort, with the most comfortable position for their arms being to link them and hold hands. Something they flatly refused to do at all costs.

Remus had not known it was possible to remain so physically close to a person for such a long period of time and make eye contact less than a dozen times.

He was pulled out of his reverie by screaming all around him. He looked up expecting to see the score at twenty-zero. It was fifty-zero.

"Who scored so many times?" he asked Peter, who was jumping up and down and screaming for his friends.

"James two, Juliette two, and Marianna one," Peter informed him, his eyes not leaving the pitch. Remus nodded, not particularly surprised.

The game continued, and the House teams would not have had to wear their respective colours for it to be obvious this was a Gryffindor-Slytherin match.

James nearly fell off his broom when both beaters made to collide with him from either side, but he pulled upwards just in time, resulting in both Lockby and Franklin crashing into one another instead of their target; Sirius had been aiming most of his bludgers at his younger brother, whether Regulus was close to catching the snitch or not; Juliette's temper gained the Slytherins a penalty shot after she nearly killed their keeper…

Remus eventually stopped paying any attention whatsoever. Every time he caught a glimpse of James he started to worry his friend was going to be weighted right off his broom, having to fly with that ego like a physical presence around him.

When the Slytherins scored their first goal Remus slipped away unnoticed. James and Juliette were too busy shrieking insults at the green and silver team to look over towards their friends and notice, but Remus was sure Sirius caught his eye as he glanced back towards the pitch before leaving the stands.

Pushing paranoia aside – it wasn't as if Sirius was going to fly after him anyway – Remus walked back towards the castle, too breathless to run.

The recent full moon had taken a lot out of him. He was a little worried his wolf had been harder to control than usual – he had eyed a deep gash on Sirius' wrist with painful guilt – but James and Sirius had waved away his concerns with a laugh saying that the risk was _part of the fun of it_.

Well, at least some people liked the ferocious, untameable monster that lived inside him, he thought bitterly.

The castle was silent. Slytherin and Gryffindor matches were a _must-see_, especially after how close the scores for the Quidditch Cup had been the year before. Remus' brisk walk up to Gryffindor Tower was undisturbed, and his footsteps seemed to echo all the way up until he was inside the warmth of the common room. He stopped in front of the stairway that led to the girls' dormitory, wondering whether or not he was capable of shouting loud enough to wake India-Rose up from the common room.

No, he decided reluctantly, perhaps not. Though it couldn't hurt to try…

"_India-Rose!"_ he said as loudly as he dared. "India-Rose!" he tried again. And again and again and again, steadily getting louder every time.

Eventually, glancing behind to make sure there was no-one secretly watching and laughing at him, he admitted to himself reluctantly there was no way she was going to come downstairs. He frowned at the stairway, his feet itching to run up them. It couldn't be that hard, could it? He licked his lips nervously. Was seeing her worth risking making fool of himself in front of…oh, he realised. There was no-one to make a fool of himself in front of.

And with that thought in mind he pushed his legs forwards and ran.

According to James and Sirius, who had tried to get into the girls' dorms during their second year, a boy could only go two steps before he was dragged back down the slide.

If anything, at least Remus could say he had beaten a thirteen year old James and Sirius. He managed to take five frantic steps before he clattered back down to the common room. As the dizziness began to fade, he found himself staring up at the ceiling, his limbs sprawled out and his body aching.

_Not one of your brighter moments, Moony_, Remus scolded himself.

His muscles had started to burn as all the energy he had been able to recover whilst in the Hospital Wing drained out of him. Choosing from a colourful selection of curses Remus stood shakily and brushed himself down to remove the imagined dust from his robes. The light-headedness from earlier in the morning was starting to return, and Remus had a sudden need to lie down.

He considered just moving over to one of the armchairs, but he knew there was a good chance Gryffindor would win. A win for Gryffindor would invariably mean a good chance of an unnecessarily loud and highly unbearable party being hosted in the common room once the team returned, and if that were the case he would be denied any chance of rest on one of the couches.

Rubbing his tired eyes he made his way up to his own dormitory, figuring India-Rose would talk when she wanted to.

At first his eyes were closed as he walked in – he knew the layout of the room well enough to heave his exhausted body over to his own bed without his sight – and consequently was only three feet away from India-Rose by the time he noticed she was there, waiting for him.

"India-Rose!" he smiled at her. "What are you-woah…" he had barely registered she was in the room before the tirade began, arms flapping and mouth moving as a tantrum unfolded before his eyes. "Hey, hey shush…shush now, calm down," he said soothingly, scrunching his eyes up nervously as he approached the girl and wrapped his arms around her as strongly as he could. "Calm down…"

To his utmost surprise India-Rose stopped talking on command. "Now, what's wrong?"

The dark haired girl, whose eyes were haunted by shadows, her hair a mess from rubbing her head with her hands so many times, forced herself out of the boy's grip and stepped backwards so she could see him properly.

"He isn't there. He isn't _anywhere!_" she shrieked, too far gone in her anger to show remorse when Remus winced at the volume of her voice.

"Who isn't anywhere?" he asked delicately, hoping that if he spoke quietly enough India-Rose would follow suit and talk rationally, preferably at a decibel his aching head could handle.

"Brogan!" she bellowed. "That prick of a brother of mine. He said he'd be staying in Greenland but it turns out the address he gave me is currently being used by some woman writing a book on magical creatures of the north. She finally managed to send all my letters back to me along with an explanation when Singer delivered my last letter. Brogan hasn't been reading a single word I've written for months!"

Her dark blue eyes blazed furiously and her hands finally rested on her hips as she waited for Remus to respond, but it took a few moments for him to translate her hissy fit into actual words.

"What did the woman say?" he asked, massaging his temples with his fingers as he tried to think lucidly. The greatest thing about his relationship with India-Rose was that they always seemed to be well coordinated – if one of them was in a panic, the other was sure to be calm and cool headed. This time, her alarm clashing most inconveniently with the full moon's aftermath, it seemed things weren't going to be so easy.

"Oh nothing of use. She's no-one," India-Rose muttered. "The point is that he's off somewhere without a clue how I am, and I have no idea where he is, let alone if he's ok or not!" she cried, and this time rather than fight off Remus' protective hold she nearly bowled him over as she ran into his chest to hide her worried face.

"It's ok," Remus said gently, guiding her over to the bed as he began to fear he was going to collapse if he stayed standing much longer. "You know Brogan; he's probably travelling all over the place. Once he settles down again he'll write another letter to you," he reassured her, swinging his legs up so they were laid side by side, propped up against the wall at the top end of his bed. "You know he will."

"But I don't," India-Rose said stubbornly, her voice muffled as she spoke into his robes, still too upset to look into her friend's face. "I don't know anything. Mum died and he disappeared, and all I had left for years was _photos_. Photos, Remus! And I can see the difference between the smile he showed to the camera then and the smile he shows the world now. I don't have a bloody clue what's going on." Her passion had dissipated, and Remus almost wished for it back.

She was no longer angry; she was in despair.

Remus tightened his grip around India-Rose's shoulders as best as he could, but felt himself growing hotter around the face as she reciprocated by wrapping her arms around his waist. He swallowed and coughed to buy himself some more time to regain his voice. He gritted his teeth, channelling his thoughts solely on India-Rose's dilemma, and not the soft curves of her body against his.

"It's ok," he said finally. "I'm here."

He knew that he was stating the obvious, but he also knew India-Rose. She wasn't looking for advice. He felt her nod against his shoulder and wriggle a little to lie more comfortably, not helping Remus at all, who held his breath and tried to think of something to distract himself from her hands resting close to his hip.

"Thank you," she mumbled softly, and then yawned loudly.

"Are you tired?" Remus asked incredulously. "You've been asleep for…oh," he tailed off when the girl lifted up her head to throw him a disparaging look.

"Just pretending, Ree-Ree," India-Rose admitted without shame, replacing her head on the boy's chest and this time, to Remus' horror, resting her face much closer to his neck. He could feel the ghost of her breath and a blush blossomed in his cheeks. "You should know all about that."

"Yeah…" Remus agreed, his voice thick. "Yes, I do."

As the silence between then stretched and the girl's breaths deepened, Remus began to think she had fallen asleep. But then she spoke again, her words slurred with exhaustion but still coherent.

"Sorry about your birthday."

For a moment he wondered if he'd heard her correctly.

"Though I have to admit…" she continued, and glancing down he could just about make out a satisfied smile on her face. "…it was kind of nice being stuck so close to you all day."

She yawned again, and soon began to snore softly.

Unable to fully remove the smile planted on his face, Remus hesitated. He didn't want to wake her up now that she was finally asleep, but at the same time things could very well get awkward with the two of them lying so intimately…he swallowed again, focusing on what was _best for their friendship_, and not on what he really wanted to do.

Though no matter his concerns regarding waking up and finding himself in a tangle of limbs with India-Rose Norrell and how it would only going to complicate things more than any meddling from his best friends could do, he had to admit he was very tired.

He deserved a sleep didn't he?

Yes, he told himself, and he smiled contentedly as he closed his eyes, lazily fighting to urge to kiss the top of the girl's head before drifting off.

He awoke briefly when the first sounds of match spectators returning from the pitch reached his ears. Opening a bleary eye he saw that the light had dimmed considerably – it was much darker than he had expected it to be. The match had started late morning…this looked like practically evening already. How long had the match gone on for?

Deciding he could wait a while longer before finding out, Remus closed his eyes again and slipped easily back into blissful sleep, not even attempting to extract himself from the tight grip that the drowsing girl by his side held him in.

* * *

Though she had been very impressed with her house team's performance, and though she had, along with the rest of the crowd, remarked how incredible it was that the Captain had managed to perform the stunt that he did, Lily felt that it had been a while since the novelty had ended, leaving behind nothing more than a bunch of arrogant toerags looking for an excuse to get drunk.

She glared as James continued to dance around the room, Marianna precariously balanced on his shoulders as he screamed and bellowed and sang about his expert Quidditch skills, and how they saved this dear fourth year's life.

Marianna Westley, small for her age with wispy blonde hair, large blue eyes and a sweet Welsh voice, had never been drunk before. She had refused the drinks offered to her at first upon her return from the Hospital Wing, but after relentless badgering from James had finally accepted a small glass of Firewhiskey.

Now, her fourth glass half empty in her hand, she could barely stand upright and was managing to stay on the Head By's shoulders only thanks to his hands gripping her knees.

Lily had been impressed when James looked to her before offering Marianna a drink, as if asking for the Head Girl's approval, and Lily had nodded, expecting it to be a single drink. She couldn't deny it must have been a terrifying affair for the poor girl; she deserved a drink after all that.

But this was just ridiculous.

"Marianna!" the redhead shouted loudly, and the fourth year turned her head, grinning. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were shining.

"Yes?" she asked excitedly, hiccoughing as she spoke.

"I think it's time you came down from James' shoulders," Lily said firmly, and when the girl shook her head and cackled, Lily slammed down her bottle of butterbeer – the origins of which she had decided against asking Sirius as he handed it to her – and stalked up to the entire team, who were clustered together and singing victory songs that would have been more fitting at the battle of Dumbledore and Grindelwald than a group of teenagers singing about sport. "Put her down now, James," Lily ordered, and James did as he was told.

Lily would have been pleased, but his cheeky smile worried her.

"Okay then," James said simply, Marianna now pouting on the ground. And before she could react Lily found herself hoisted onto the Head Boy's shoulders instead. She shrieked and flapped her hands, smacking the boy around the head.

"PUT ME DOWN NOW, POTTER!" she bellowed, mortified as James began to dance around again.

"But Lily, I learnt a song for you! And it's a muggle song, too. You'll be very impressed!" he cried proudly.

"I don't care about any stupid songs. Put me down!"

"It goes _Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Lily-"_ he stopped, frowning.

"James, the word is _Clementine_, not _Lily_. Now put me down before I curse you so hard you'll wish I was Voldemort!"

There were several gasps around the room, a few people even began whispering, but James looked mildly impressed. His brow puckered as he considered her offer, and then he placed her back on the ground, much to Lily's relief. At least, until he grabbed her hand and kept hold of it in an iron grip, nearly pulling her to the ground as he knelt in front of her.

"Lily, I just want to tell you that if I had written that song, I would have put your name in there. Lily is so much prettier than Tangerine."

"Clementine!"

"…and I will love you forever and always, and will write hundreds of songs about your name!"

"You can't even sing, you daft sod," Sirius barked. The surrounding Gryffindors all began hooting and jeering.

Lily stared at James' drunken smile. She considered getting her wand out and making good of her threat, but decided a good slap around the face would suffice. The sound of her palm meeting his cheek was ominous, and the mark of her hand glowed scarlet.

At first he didn't seem to notice, and when he did a frown barely formed on his forehead as his lips parted in shock.

"Let go of my hand. Now," She growled.

James released her, surprise rendering his expression cold and innocent.

Lily stalked away from the howls of laughter, her face slowly turning crimson with embarrassment. When she heard James calling her name again she whipped around, extracting her wan from her pocket, and she threw the first spell that came to her head at him.

James wasn't quite sure what spell the girl had hit him with, the jet of light had been pale blue, and she had had to mutter the words, which despite an excess of alcohol coursing through his veins told him it was probably a transfiguration spell, seeing as it was the only class he had mastered nonverbal spells in, and the only class Lily _hadn't_.

He wasn't sure what she had done. All he knew was that his head had started to hurt, and that everyone was laughing. Everyone other than Sirius and Peter, who were looking abruptly alarmed.

"What?" he asked, and he reached up to feel the top of his head, from which it felt as if two antlers had suddenly grown. He froze, his eyes fixed on Lily, but when it became clear he wasn't actually going to turn into a stag he grinned in relief.

It was probably just a coincidence that she had picked antlers.

"Hmm, funny," Lily said snidely. "I'd hoped you would sprout ass' ears."

And with that she turned and ran up to the girls' dormitories.

James stared after her, unable to rid himself of the feeling that the past two months of blossoming friendship between him and the redhead had just been cancelled out in a single night. He began to scowl moodily, but his attention was soon claimed by a blonde boy standing in front of him, speaking consoling words as if they were best friends.

"James, you alright? That wasn't on. That was just too cruel. She has no right to that. You alright though, yeah? Sure you are. You were amazing today! Inspirational! We're going to win this year, I know we are. You're the best Captain we've ever had."

James, whose head was starting to ache a little, decided against reminding the sixth year that he was the only Captain he had ever had, given James had been the one to put Christian Sutherland on the team two years ago.

"Urgh, I swear my boyfriend loves you more than me!" Lizzie yelled, jogging over to stand by Christian's side and clasp his hand. The boy turned and grinned foolishly, pulling a face that James was sure was supposed to be loving, but looked vaguely nauseating from where he was stood.

He hoped that wasn't what he looked like when he talked to Lily.

"O…kay," James said as Lizzie looked ready to leap on Christian there and then. "I'm going to go over…here." He walked over to where the rest of the team were, but when he got there he found Sirius had disappeared, and Juliette was sitting in his place. He considered looking for his friend, but he was abruptly distracted by his many fans, and he grinned as he prepared to once again recount his glorious victory on the pitch.

* * *

When Remus awoke for the second time it was to find someone else in the dormitory. Sirius was stood at the doorway staring at the pair, and when he realised Remus had woken he grinned, lifted his hands to give his friend's a thumbs up, and mouthed _Nice one!_

"Piss off!" Remus whispered as loudly as he dared, glowering at his friend. Sirius shook his head, instead staggering over to his own bed and reaching out to find his duvet and wrap himself up in it.

Rather than his hand finding his quilt, however, his toe found his trunk first, and he yelped as he hit the floor, grabbing his foot and groaning as the pain throbbed from toe to heel.

India-Rose woke with a start.

She sat up abruptly, suddenly very much aware of where she was, as well as the fact that she and Remus were not alone. She froze upon seeing Sirius' amused expression. Her dark blue eyes, which looked closer to purple in the dim light, shifted from the boy on the floor, to Remus, to her legs, which were still entwined with those of the boy by her side. For a moment she stared at them, and Remus thought she was going to smile, then she rolled off the bed and stood, a blush staining her face as she bit her lip nervously.

"I'm going to go now…" she said slowly, and not even looking at Sirius, who was holding back a fit of hysterical giggles, she glanced only once at Remus before exiting swiftly. Remus watched her go with dismay, but soon his disappointment turned to irritation when Sirius broke the silence.

"I think you should go after her."

Remus growled, not even looking at his friend.

"I think your right to have an opinion was lost along with your ability to walk in a straight line."

Sirius shrugged, giving Remus a noncommittal jerk of the head.

"Where's the shower?" He stood with difficulty, and blinking stupidly he tottered around the room until he found his way out and into the bathroom.

Remus remained on the bed, lying flat with his arms thrown over his face in disappointment. A part of him felt like hitting himself. But for the most part he felt like hitting Sirius.

_Why does he always have such bad timing?_ Remus asked himself. In an effort to vent his gathering frustration he slammed his fists into his duvet several times.

"_Padfoot_?"

James tumbled into the room, shouting his friend's name several times before noticing Remus.

"Moony!" he cried jovially, and he collapsed onto his friend's bed with an _oof_, nearly breaking Remus' legs in the process.

"What Prongs?" he asked, sounding tired but satisfied.

"It was so incredible Moony!" James said with shiny eyes and a grinning mouth.

Though under the impression Remus had watched the entire match, James decided he would recall the thrilling tale for Remus, whom he hadn't seen at the party, and so rightly assumed hadn't had the privilege of hearing it being retold yet.

"There we were, one hundred and forty to fifty, and Marianna has the Quaffle. I tried to get her to pass to me, but she wouldn't, and I was screaming orders at her but she kept going. I was getting so angry! Then I realised she had found a gap in the Slytherins' defences, and she swerved around Costella, making the shot and getting us up to a hundred and fifty!

"Then Costella took the Quaffle, passed to Radisson, who passed back to Costella, and Costella was going to pass to Salis when Marianna grabs the Quaffle in mid flight! Incredible manoeuvre…I was to on her right, but just as she passed to me two bludgers went for her at the same time, and Radisson had stopped right in front of her, so she couldn't accelerate to avoid them. She tried to tilt her broom but she had to try and avoid Radisson at the same time, and fell off her broom!

"So what did I do? I managed to catch the Quaffle, soar down at lightning speed to catch Marianna, then flew – with Marianna in my other arm! – to the goal and scored again, getting us another point, by which time Gregors managed to catch the snitch and save the day!"

He grinned, expecting applause.

Remus had listened, but was too busy stifling laughter (and a gip at the stench of alcohol oozing from his friend's very pores) to actually clap. He could tell these were probably the exact words James had used during every retelling of the tale. He was also entertained by how James could barely remember to write to his parents once a month, but could remember exactly who passed to whom in a Quidditch match at what time and probably even from what position on the pitch.

"It was good, wasn't it?" James asked pointedly. Remus smiled despite himself.

"Yes Prongs, you were brilliant."

He could practically see the ego inflation – Remus never praised him too highly, he always said he received enough adoration from drooling fans, never mind his friends.

"And what did your beloved Lily think?" Remus asked, expecting James to glow with pride, but instead he seemed to deflate a little.

"Well, she was pleased and all…but then I ruined it."

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course James had ruined it. Ruining things with Lily Evans was something he had an unquestionable knack for.

"So Remus, what were you doing cuddling India-Rose. Finally accepted your undying love for one another?" Sirius asked as he walked back into the room, towel wrapped around his waist and smirk readily in place. "Oh…Prongsie boy! Man of the hour, good to see you!"

"Don't call me Prongsie boy, _Pads_!" James said, but he was soon distracted from the embarrassing nickname when he realised what Sirius had said. "What…Remus…India-Rose?!" he asked excitedly, bouncing up and down in a display that was worryingly similar to Lizzie, in Remus' opinion.

"I think you need a wake up shower too, Prongs," Remus said firmly, pointing to the bathroom that Sirius had just vacated.

"Yeah Prongs, I feel much better now! You run along for a shower and I'll get all the juicy gossip first."

"No way!" James scowled. "Tell us!"

"Are you two turning into a couple of girls?" Remus asked with incredulity.

Sirius peeked beneath his towel.

"Not that I've noticed," he replied, and Remus could sense a headache coming on from the excessive rolling of his eyes. "Look, I think you should go and say something to her."

"She was just upset! She needed some cheering up and I was there for her. That's all," Remus said firmly.

"Then do some more cheering up!" James encouraged. When Remus shook his head again, Sirius grinned evilly.

"Fine then, I know what I'll do." Remus and James exchanged a look; the expression on Sirius' face was not one of his more trustworthy expressions – not that he had many of those, of course. "I promise I won't do anything to break the Marauder Code, okay?"

"Including number three?" James asked, and Sirius counted to three in his head, trying to remember which rule number three was – _No Marauder shall steal a fellow Marauder's girl_.

"Yep," he promised, "I promise. But it's good, I swear."

"I think you should trust him," James said, much to Remus' horror.

"You think I should _what_?"

"Please Moony!"

"Tell me what you're doing first."

"That will ruin the surprise!"

Sirius pouted, and Remus decided arguing with the boy wasn't going to do any good. Sirius was one of the most pig-headed people he knew.

"Fine," he snapped, scowling a little and throwing off Sirius' hug when the boy flung his arms around him in gratitude. He tried not to be suspicious, but the excitement on Sirius' face was not one that naturally evoked confidence. He sighed at the reassuring smile on James' face.

"Don't worry, I think I know what he's going to do."

Sirius raced out of the dormitory, and was half way down the staircase when he heard Remus scream _WHAT? _at the top of his voice. He assumed James had guessed correctly, but continued running to the common room, which was empty except for Wormtail, Marianna Westley, Lizzie and Christian, and a few others, all of whom were asleep. Except for the lovey-dovey couple of course, but they were far too busy with one another to notice the sneaking figure skirting around the edge of the room.

He reached the bottom of the stairs that led to the girls' dorms and grinned, feeling nothing but pride at his own genius.

* * *

Though beyond angry at James' humiliating display of affection, Lily was unable to ignore India-Rose's entrance as the dark haired girl stormed into the room. She clambered onto the bed that India-Rose had thrown herself onto and asked what was wrong.

After a few grunted refusals India-Rose mad a muffled mention of Remus.

For a moment she wondered why on earth Remus would do anything to hurt the girl he clearly – no matter his protests – liked a lot, but soon she realised he was not the _reason_ her friend was angry. Her giggling teasing of India-Rose's sleep-squashed cheeks was only interrupted when a drunken Juliette stumbled into the room in a fit of hysterical laughter.

After helping their friend sober up a little and put her to bed, Lily and India-Rose had resumed their conversation, a one-sided mix of India-Rose blushing and Lily snickering, once again stopping when Wendy appeared, clearly as sober as ever though pale with the cold. She explained she had gone for a walk to get out of the stuffy common room, and upon seeing India-Rose's badly hidden worried expression she joined their discussion, offering unhelpful words of comfort and useful words of advice.

It was late by the time they were disturbed for a third time. They had expected it to be Lizzie finally returning from a night spent devoted to examining each and every contour of her boyfriend's anatomy, but it wasn't.

Lily frowned as the door opened, because at a glance it would appear nobody was there. Then a bark echoed through the room and a large dog bounded onto the bed, settling comfortably on India-Rose's lap.

The girls gasped in delight. It was a beautiful dog with a thick shaggy coat and sparkly grey eyes.

He was friendly, and to all three of the girls' relief they had found he wasn't scared of them at all. He licked their fingers and snuffled at their faces and padded around the room inspecting every aspect of it, causing great amusement when he discovered the joys of irritating a sleeping Juliette by nipping her toes through the covers. He whined when she sleepily kicked him away and slunk back to India-Rose pathetically with his tail between his legs, almost as if he was _trying_ to be comical.

"He's beautiful," India-Rose sighed, her smile finally starting to look genuine as she fawned over the dog.

"He doesn't have a collar or anything, magical or even muggle," Lily said pointedly. "He seems to have cheered you up a lot."

"But where did he come from?" Wendy asked. She couldn't deny that she adored the dog already, but something in the back of her mind told her this was something more than the average stray. How could he have gotten into the castle for a start?

"Well we can keep him for now, and if anyone claims him we'll give him back!" Lily said brightly, reluctant to part with the dog, who reminded her of her old mutt Scamper, who was already eight years old when she was born and had died when she was ten.

"But everyone is going to say he's their dog!" India-Rose said glumly. "He's so lovely…people will just _say_ he's theirs!"

"Then we'll wait for someone to come asking for him," Wendy said simply. "We won't tell anyone about him, not even the boys."

The dog seemed to like this idea, because he barked in approval and jumped up to rub his snout against Wendy's cheek and lick her ear. She chuckled and batted him away playfully, and soon they began to wrestle off the bed and onto the floor.

India-Rose smiled. Lily was right; the dog _had_ cheered her up a lot. And he seemed to be paying a lot of attention to her, even more than to Lily and Wendy. Why shouldn't she keep him for a while?

"He'll need a name," Lily pointed out.

"How about Wretched Git?" grumbled Juliette, her face pressed into her pillow and her arms around her head as she failed to block out the noise and sleep.

"I think Snuffles," India-Rose said after a moment's thought. "He's very playful, and he keeps, you know, snuffling around everywhere."

"Snuffles…" Lily tried it on her tongue, watching the dog butt his head against Wendy's side when she stopped moving, too tired to carry on with their wrestle. "Yes, it suits him."

At that the dog leapt back up onto the bed and pushed his head under India-Rose's hand, encouraging her to pat him again. "Alright then Snuffles," she said, "I don't see why we can't keep you around for a while."


	9. Recklessness

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_I also forewarn you, if you have read any of my old works you will know I have a terrible obsession with flashbacks. Prepare yourself, as of next chapter they will start to appear…_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**8. ****Recklessness**

_**In which a bet is lost, plans are made, and Sirius Black is not in love.**_

Sirius Black had always known he was an irrational human being, but this time he had managed to surprise even himself.

He had not fully considered the implications of becoming the Gryffindor girls' new pet before he bounded into the room for the first time. He had no considered sleeping at the bottom of India-Rose's bed, having to force his eyes shut and mimicking sleep whenever they were undressing regardless of the temptation to take a peek. After a couple of days he managed to get into a routine of remembering exactly where he was when he awoke, and that he could _not_, under any circumstances, transform back into a human until he was safely in his own dormitory once more.

There were a couple of close misses, though.

He had admitted his actions to his fellow Marauders on Sunday evening, which turned out to be Halloween, meaning all the girls would be at the feast and he could take advantage of being human for a long time, returning to his dog form and going back to the girls' dorm only at the last minute.

Remus had been annoyed at first, as he had expected, but upon seeing India-Rose better spirited on Sunday morning he had to admit Sirius had actually managed something close to an act of kindness.

Reckless; but (just about) kind.

Sirius rejoiced in the fact that for once in his life he had managed to do something good, and was so busy feeling proud of himself he didn't realise that Remus, though pleased for India-Rose, was disappointed that he hadn't been as successful as his friend at cheering her up. But of course, subtle hints were not Sirius' forte. He could not give them, and he could not understand then. And so Remus' frustration was simply passed right by.

Sirius liked playing the adorable pet. He was given far more attention from the girls – he was under strict orders from James not to even think about looking at Lily when she was getting dressed – and had the opportunity of harassing Juliette without being reprimanded, as the rest of the seventh year girls wouldn't let her kick poor Snuffles.

He was getting better at finding ways of upsetting her. It took barely a week to work out how to undo her trunk with his teeth, and had already shredded two of her bras, as well as her favourite dress by the time he was caught. Of course they were reparable by magic, but the look on her face every time he did it was just too satisfying to not start all over again the following day.

He also hoped he could turn into a lucky charm of sorts for them, guiding them in the right direction. He could bring Remus and India-Rose together, and perhaps even do the exact opposite for Lizzie and Christian, too.

A master of subtlety, every time Remus' name was mentioned he was skip and yelp and wag his tail with delight. And every time Lizzie attempted to get dressed for a date with Christian he would find some way of ruining her outfit, and whenever the boy was mentioned he would growl.

To his dismay his efforts and opinions had thus far been received as adorably sweet antics of a loved pet, but ultimately not to be taken seriously. When explaining this to James in an undertone during Defence Against the Dark Arts one day, he didn't understand what his friend meant by that being _the same as ever_.

The inevitable, of course, had to be confronted.

For two weeks Sirius ran himself ragged, until in his effort to remain as doglike as possible for the girls he almost began to forget how to walk on two legs, and finally James was forced to ask just how long he planned to keep it up.

Sirius thought perhaps forever.

The next morning, which was a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend, however, he had realised things couldn't continue much longer.

It was the thirteenth of November when he awoke to find the girls all hastening to get ready for their Hogsmeade trip. India-Rose and Juliette were arguing over whether or not it was a good idea to bring Snuffles with them.

"He's just a little dog; we can't leave him here all day!" India-Rose cried.

"We leave him here during school hours all the time! Sometimes when we come back during lunch he isn't even _here_ anyway. He probably goes wandering off here, there and everywhere while we're out," Juliette pointed out, turning to the mirror to start applying makeup. "And India-Rose?" she said in an amused voice. "He is most certainly _not_ a _little dog_."

Sirius watched the conversation intently. He knew he couldn't go to Hogsmeade with the girls, what would they say when he wasn't there with the other Marauders? Then again, to see Juliette so irritated if he did join them was very appealing…

He was pulled from his reverie by Lily exiting the bathroom, hair soaked and trailing over her shoulders, with an alarmingly small towel wrapped around her damp body. She crouched down to stroke the top of his head with her warm hand.

Sincerely glad that as a dog any inner blushing he felt could not bee seen, Sirius moved his eyes to the wall behind Lily and stared intently in one direction, trying to rid himself of the temptation to peek down the redhead's towel. She was talking to him, but he didn't listen, instead he paid attention to whatever snatches of India-Rose whining to Juliette he could manage to focus on.

"Guys, why don't we give Snuffles the choice?" Lily asked, turning to look at India-Rose and Juliette.

"That's a good idea," Wendy said, jumping off her bed where she had been lying fully dressed for almost an hour, waiting for her friends. Lizzie was still in the shower, granting them all the pleasure of hearing her voice singing what sounded vaguely like a muggle song Lily had introduced her to.

"It's up to-whoops!" Lily began, cutting herself off when she had to grab her towel as it dropped from where it had been tucked under her arms.

Instinctively Sirius hid his snout and eyes behind his paws, earning a series of laughs from the girls.

"Aww, he's protecting your dignity, Lils!" India-Rose said with a laugh, and the redhead agreed with a fond ruffle of his head.

"You're such a polite dog, aren't you Snuffles?" she asked, running her hands through the dog's coat again. "His coat's getting a bit long, don't you think?" Lily pulled gently at his fur, making him wriggle in delight. His mind, however, raced with panic at her words. Long? Surely they wouldn't…

"Do you think we should cut it for him?"

"What if his owner likes him having long fur?"

"I think it would be nice."

"You can barely tell he's a dog!"

"He's like a ball of fur."

"It's cute."

"It's too long."

"We won't cut it too much, just a trim!"

"Okay, if it's only a trim."

"We could get into trouble!"

"He'll look lovely!"

Sirius' head was spinning as the girls finally agreed that a short trim was in order, and he backed away, whining loudly as India-Rose approached with her wand.

"Don't worry Snuffles, it won't hurt," she said kindly, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hoisting him towards her with surprising strength. He struggled to break free, yelping when Wendy and Juliette helped pin him down. "Hold him still or I'll end up shaving it all off by accident!" India-Rose warned.

Sirius froze. A trim, or bald? He would have to deal with a trim.

He growled and whimpered, nibbling at Juliette's fingers until she slapped his snout.

"That's it, good boy Snuffles," India-Rose hummed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped for the best…

* * *

Walking into the seventh year boy's dormitory was surely one of the hardest things Sirius Black had ever done in his life.

He stood in front of the door for several minutes before actually making a move to enter. In that moment he was sure he would have rather faced Voldemort single handed than see James' face when he opened the door.

Mustering up what he was sure was every bit of his Gryffindor courage Sirius grasped the doorknob and swung open the door to reveal three boys, all of whom turned to look at him. Utterly mortified, Sirius stepped into the room.

James was the first to laugh, a great whooping shout of laughter that made Sirius flinch and grimace.

James laughed until he ran out of breath, and even then he continued silently, smacking his open palm against his thigh in an attempt to regain his breath so he could laugh aloud a bit more. Sirius scowled, turning to Peter who looked too scared to laugh, but too amused not to. Remus made no attempt to hide his amusement, his grin was wider than it had been in days as he watched Sirius storm over to the mirror to re-inspect his hair.

"What did they do?" James asked coughed between giggles, blinking tears from his eyes.

"They thought Snuffles' fur was too shaggy. So they cut it! But then they decided he would look stupid with short fur around his eyes so they left that bit." Sirius stared with a pained expression at his once beautiful locks, now less than half their length – all but the front, which had somehow turned into a messy fringe falling into his eyes instead of framing his sharply angled features. "I'm hideous," he cried dismally, and James threw an arm over his shoulder.

"Yes," his friend replied, stifling a snort. "You really are." Sirius bowed his head in shame. "Of course you're not, you dafty," James huffed with a grin, clapping Sirius on the back of the head. "We can grow it again, can't we Remus?" The two boys turned to Remus, who shrugged.

"Well there's not really a hair growing _spell_. Not that I know of anyway. The only way I can think of actually re-growing it is to make that potion where you put a piece of your hair in it and then drink a cup full for every inch you want your hair to grow, I can't remember-"

Sirius groaned loudly, jumping up and down and stamping his feet.

"That takes _ages_ to make! _And_ it needs to stew overnight as well!" He threw himself onto his bed and proceeded to mope spread eagled across the sheets, hiding his face from the world in shame and sobbing into his pillow.

"Then we'll just need to use a glamour charm for a while," James consoled, not helping by pulling at Sirius' shaven strands and smirking. He held his breath in an attempt to hide another silent laughing fit, but Sirius, feeling his friend's shaking amusement, reached outwards to blindly slap him.

"Meh," the grieving boy replied, and Remus rolled his eyes.

"It's your fault for becoming India-Rose's new favourite toy."

"What, would _you_ rather be her new toy, Moony?" Sirius asked, lifting his head from his pillow to waggle his eyebrows suggestively. Remus threw him a disdainful look.

"I'll be leaving now," he said, and was followed eagerly by Peter and James, both of whom told Sirius he was welcome to join them if he dared. Sirius picked up a pillow and threw it at James' retreating back.

"What?" James asked with a grin.

Sirius raised his head to whisper loudly across the room.

"Don't worry Prongs, I checked. Lily's a natural ginger."

"You WHAT?" James asked and Sirius rolled on his bed to cower behind his duvet.

"Joke, _joke_! I didn't look, didn't even try to,, honest! She's all yours! I swear!" He hunched his shoulders and curled up into a ball, hoping whatever hexes James sent his way didn't leave any lastingdamage.

"Better be joking," James glowered, and Sirius grinned, nodding. The trio of boys re-entered the room, all clustered around Sirius bed as they waited for him to make a move.

"Of course, Prongs. Anyway, I was too busy finding out what Swindon's bra size to peek at Evans." His eyebrows twitched pointedly, earning himself a disapproving scowl from Remus and James. "What are _you_ complaining about?" he asked James. "I'd expect it from Mr Perfect Prefect over there…don't tell me you're going all Head Boy on me over a bra?"

"No, but Jules is my friend. And why would you look at _her_ bra anyway? I mean, if you have to snoop you may as well snoop at _Lizzie-_"

"Harding?" Sirius cried incredulously. "I may not like your dear _Jules_ very much, Potter, but no-one in this school has cleavage like Juliette Swindon."

Challenge glinted in James' eyes, and Sirius smirked.

"Remus?" they asked sweetly in unison, and the sandy haired boy rolled his eyes.

"I am _not_ getting involved in your debate on our fellow Gryffindors' anatomies," he stated.

"Just tell us who you think is right. Or who you think it is, I suppose," James shrugged.

"And don't worry, it won't count as treachery if you don't pick India-Rose," Sirius added condescendingly. Remus narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry for this, James. Don't think I'm attracted to her or anything, but I reckon you're both wrong. It's Lily."

"Pete?" James demanded, and the boy blushed. He hummed bashfully, biting his lip.

"I reckon…probably Sirius is right."

James scowled. "How much do you want to bet?"

"_Nothing_," Remus said firmly, and Peter shook his head. Sirius, on the other hand, smacked his hands together in celebration.

"Whoever loses has to…" Sirius tapped his chin thoughtfully, his tongue sticking between his teeth as he thought hard. "Wear the sticky note!"

James paused for the briefest of seconds before agreeing, Remus threw him a _what if you lose?_ look, and Peter let out a snort. Padfoot and Prongs simply stared at one another, hoping beyond hope that they would be the one to win.

The sticky note always ended badly for the wearer.

"Okay then," James sighed after a moment. "So…what about that haircut, Sirius?"

* * *

The Three Broomsticks was crowded as the nine Gryffindors entered, Sirius patting his hair self consciously. Remus shot him a _don't-draw-attention-to-yourself _look and he ceased, but his eyes shifted uncomfortably around the pub every so often for the rest of the afternoon, certain that someone was going to comment on his hair, despite his faith in James' transfiguration skills.

"I'll buy the first round?" James offered, eager to impress Lily with his generosity. There was a mumbling assent and he jogged over to the bar. Sirius was vaguely aware of his best friend flirting with the barmaid – Miss Rosmerta to everyone else, but Rosie to the Marauders, _naturally_ – and he felt a surge of envy.

How was he going to pull off his flawless Black Seduction when he was terrified of people noticing the glamour charm?

He accepted the butterbeer handed to him with a reluctant grunt of thanks, glowering at the self-satisfied smirk James wore but making no comment.

"So, what's everyone up to today then?" Lizzie asked amicably, her own attentions clearly half an hour into the future when Christian would be meeting her.

"So I had this idea," Juliette began, bluntly cutting off the expected list of shops that would be visited: Honeydukes, Zonko's, Robyn's Ribbons, Cut 'n' Stitch...

"Wow, I'll alert the Prophet," Lily replied vacantly.

"Ha. Ha Ha," Juliette sneered playfully. "No seriously, it's brilliant. It's our last year here, right?"

"Oh well spotted, how long did it take you to work that one out?" James asked, to which Juliette refused to reply.

"And I thought the best thing to do would be to go out with a bang. You know, before the war catches up with us and we finally admit we aren't Peter Pan?"

"Who?" Sirius asked Remus.

"Tell you later," Remus replied under his breath, not wanting to interrupt Juliette, whose excitement was starting to glow in her expression.

"Do you have to make it sound like we're all going to die the moment we leave school?" Wendy asked despairingly. "It's so depressing when you put it like that."

"No-one's going to die, Wendy dearest," James chuckled, ruffling her hair fondly. "We won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

"You shouldn't say things like that, James," India-Rose scolded. "_Anything_ could happen. This war is serious, you know." She had been relatively quiet all morning, her smile only appearing twice, once when Sirius had randomly shrieked as Lily smacked the back of his head and ruffled his hair, and then again whilst talking privately with Remus.

"I'm well aware, India-Rose," James admitted with barely a trace of sheepishness. He looked ready to continue but was interrupted.

"_Anyway_," Juliette cut in angrily, annoyed that her idea had been spoiled by her friends' incessant chatter and generally lacking concentration skills. "What I was _trying_ to say was that I think we should have a huge Christmas party, get rip-roaringly drunk and celebrate our last ever Hogwarts Christmas in style."

There was a pause as she gave time for the rest of the group to digest the idea, and slowly she watched eight smiles spread slowly across their faces.

"Jules…I'm going home for Christmas," Lily admitted in disappointment.

"Of course you are, we all are!" Juliette cried, catching James' eye for the briefest of moments; she wondered vaguely whether he'd told Sirius she would be joining them in the Potter household yet. One glance at Sirius told her he still didn't know, because he would definitely have said something incoherent and mutinous if that were the case. "We'll do it on the last day of term!" she insisted, and drained the last drops of her butterbeer before slamming her glass onto the table.

"I think it's pure gold," James said, breathless in awe.

"You would," Remus muttered. "It involves drinking and staying up all night."

"It does sound tempting," Lily admitted with half a smile.

"See! Even The Head Girl says so. It must be true!" Lily refrained from glaring at James' buttering-up tone, just as James ignored the mutter of _kiss-ass_ that came from the vague direction of Sirius.

The pub was slowly beginning to fill up more and more as time passed and the planning began. At midday Lizzie left the throng to sit with Christian, who waved at the group enthusiastically, apparently oblivious to the fact that the kindest wave he received in return was James, who felt obliged to as the boy's Quidditch Captain.

Sirius watched out of the corner of his eye as Lizzie snuggled down into an alcove with her boyfriend, and when his gaze returned to them a few minutes later it was to see her staring adoringly up at the sixth year from her comfortable position under his arm.

"Is it just me, or does Lizzie seem a bit obsessed with Sunderland?" Sirius asked disgustedly.

"No more than she is with every other guy she dates," Lily said nonchalantly, rooting around in her purse for change to buy another round of drinks.

Sirius fell silent as the talk returned to party plans, no reason to continue the discussion about Lizzie after Lily's blunt – and in Sirius' opinion unhelpful – comment. He supposed he was just being silly, but he didn't like Christian Sunderland.

Or maybe he just didn't like the fact that Christian Sunderland was dating Lizzie.

A strange thought occurred to Sirius, but he squashed it swiftly, taking a long, uncomfortably gulp of butterbeer.

No way; that was _absurd_. He simply didn't like watching her waste her life with people like Christian Sunderland.

He did his best to forget he was one of the two people Sunderland modelled himself on. That was different. He was Sirius Black. He was supposed to act that way.

* * *

With something to look forward to, time began to pass quickly.

Under the pretence that Lily was simply too busy with her Head Girl duties to be of any help, Juliette recruited India-Rose as co-coordinator of the party plans. India-Rose knew Juliette was simply doing it in an attempt to distract her friend from her family worries, but she didn't tell Juliette that. She let her carry on with her distractions.

After all, they were working. The party _was_ starting to sound like a lot of fun.

To India-Rose's disappointment – though not complete surprise – there finally came a day when Snuffles vanished. The first day she had awoken to find the bottom of her bed empty she had been so consumed by her thoughts of where her dear friend was that she didn't even have the heart to look for her favourite bra, which she could have sworn she had left on top of her clothes to be worn, but was no longer there.

At breakfast she barely registered the snickering coming from three of the _Muppets_ during breakfast, and it didn't even occur to her to wonder why Sirius wasn't joining in.

But then she went to Defence Against the Dark Arts, and just happened to sit behind James and Sirius.

Sat beside Juliette, it was only once her friend nudged her hard in the ribs that she looked up at Sirius' back, which was adorned with a bright yellow sticky note, about four times the size of the regular muggle ones that Wendy used to supply them with. On the sticky note was written several insults, all of which ended with the name _James_.

"What's that?" she asked Juliette under her breath, her face composed as she attempted to at least _look_ as if she was listening to Professor Skyler.

"It's that thing," her friend replied unhelpfully. "You know, they had it last year?"

"No," India-Rose insisted, utterly bemused. "I don't remember at all."

"Aww, come on, it was hilarious! James wore it all day, and it kept coming up with words like _Lily_ and _Girlfriend _and sometimes with a picture of Lil's face or…other bodily parts."

India-Rose shrugged, "I don't remember that."

"You're useless!" Juliette snapped playfully. "Well take it from me, it was brilliant. It came up with other stuff as well, but mostly Lily, or pranks that the Muppets were pulling. It was like it was showing what James was thinking. Some sort of magical note."

"Hang on…" India-Rose murmured, holding up her hand to silence the girl by her side. "Is that when it came up with a picture of a wolf or something, but it disappeared really quickly and they refused to explain what it was?"

"Yes!" Juliette cried.

"Miss Swindon, quiet please."

Juliette slouched in her chair, smiling meekly at Professor Skyler, who was giving her a stern look.

"Sorry sir," Juliette replied, blushing a little under his stare and only sitting up once his gaze returned to the board, which was covered in notes.

"You need to learn to keep your voice down," India-Rose said with a smirk.

"Yeah, well you need to…is that Lizzie?"

India-Rose turned to her left where Lizzie was sitting next to Lily, but Juliette grabbed her arm.

"Not there, _there_!"

She pointed at Sirius' back, and sure enough there was a hazy image of Lizzie. Or more importantly, there was a hazy image of Lizzie _in her underwear_.

"How does he know Liz has that bra?" India-Rose asked incredulously, and turned to Juliette who was bright red in the face as she struggled to hold back a giggling fit.

"That's what you're thinking right now? Not _possibly_ wondering why Sirius Black is thinking about Lizzie in the first place…" Juliette's voice shook, unable to say another word. Without warning she let out a hoot of laughter. This time she didn't pause to flush with embarrassment under the teacher's glare. She rocked backwards on her chair, and India-Rose began to join in, not quite so whole heartedly, but still grinning wildly.

"What?" James asked, turning around, but all India-Rose could do was point at Sirius, who abruptly turned white.

"What were you thinking about?" James asked with a smirk of delight. Sirius closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the laughter coming from the girls behind him. Before he could answer, Juliette spoke for him.

"_Sirius Black has a crush on Elizabeth Harding!_"

* * *

"For the last time, I am not lusting for Harding!" Sirius growled at a group of fourth year girls who looked close to tears in disappointment. They turned away, their expressions disbelieving as they went back to join their friends, mumbling darkly.

In true Hogwarts fashion, word did not take long to reach every corner, student and portrait of the school that Hogwarts' Resident Stud was in love with a fellow Gryffindor. The common room seemed full of eyes to Sirius, who was sitting with his shoulders hunched, as if by making himself smaller he would be less noticeable.

"To be honest mate, it's your fault for thinking about her," James pointed out with a falsely sympathetic smile on his face that did not match his glittering eyes.

"To be honest _mate_, it was not my fault! I was just wondering how I couldn't have noticed her boobs were bigger than Swindon's before now!"

Abruptly Jams began to snicker hysterically, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"What now?" he asked in a bored voice.

"I was just imagining what would have happened if Jules had caught you thinking about _her_," he winked cheekily. Sirius visibly shuddered.

"Don't even say it. If that had happened, I'd be sitting here dead right now."

"But you knew you were wearing the sticky note!" James cried, still chuckling to himself, as he had been doing since first lesson.

"Well it's not as if it's very noticeable!" Sirius insisted, "I forgot! Something I recall _you_ doing last year, thinking about Evans this and Evans that all day."

Ignoring the jibe, James shrugged. "Still your fault," he mumbled, and ducked to avoid the cushion Sirius threw at him with surprising vigour.

The Sticky Note, named with the same expert originality as all the Marauders' other pranks, was not one of their own inventions, as much as all four of them wished it was. It had been found in their second year inside an envelope in a secret passageway behind a cracked mirror, along with a letter addressed to _Fellow Mischievous Wanderer_, and signed by _F + G .P_.

Whoever _F + G .P._ were, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were deeply indebted to them, as in the letter was a long list of tips, from how to avoid being recognised as culprits, to how to combine spells effectively and create mass mayhem.

"Ooh, watch out Padfoot, you're receiving telepathic death warnings from Jealous Boyfriend in the corner."

Sirius looked up to where James was pointing, and suddenly things started to look up. Sure enough, there was Christian Sunderland, staring directly at him with a confused look of fear, anger and humiliation in his eyes. Sirius waved brightly, flashing the boy his best, most arrogant smile.

"Well, maybe jealousy will tear apart the Gorgeous and the Git."

"I think Wendy said it was Beauty and the Beast," James cut in, but Sirius shrugged.

"Whatever," he grumbled, wrenching his eyes from the corner of the room as a tall girl with bright blonde hair walked into his view.


	10. RipRoaringly Drunk  Going Out In Style

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_This chapter is for the very talented author Aebbe, who made the request that 'They have a Christmas party before the end of term, and at least some characters get drunk and say/do things they probably shouldn't...'. I hope you like it! Yes, this is a very long chapter...I got a bit carried away!_

_Disclaimer: the James Bond franchise is the original work of Ian Fleming, The Lord of the Rings is the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and The Iliad is the work of Homer. I also did not invent the game 'I Never' - I have no idea who invented this game, but they are accountable for all manner of sins._

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**9. Rip-Roaringly Drunk and Going Out In Style**

_**Of friendships found and inhibitions lost.**_

"All clear, Miss Moneypenny?"

"All clear, Mr Bond."

Moonlight streamed through the windows, but the two creeping figures kept to the shadows, bent at the waist as they sidled along the walls towards a small alcove, inside which resided a large statue of a one eyed witch. The first figure reached up his wand to rap on the stone, but was interrupted when his companion tapped his shoulder hard.

"What?" he whispered impatiently.

"Why am I the girl?" Sirius whined.

"Because like Remus said, it's _James_ Bond. So _I'm_ Bond."

Silence ensued as Sirius thought this over. Before James could turn back to the task at hand, once more he was interrupted by his friend.

"Then who's Miss Moneypenny?"

James paused before answering, trying to remember exactly what Remus had said when telling him about the new book he had started reading. Though he had pretended otherwise, in truth James had only really listened as far as _the hero's name is James_, vaguely recalling a few other names, but no idea whom the characters actually were. "I don't really know…"

James caught his friend's eye, grinning, but Sirius continued to mope.

"But why am I the girl?"

"Because you're littler than me," James teased, smirking at his friend's narrowed eyes.

"Littler is not a word."

"It is too," James snorted.

"Well I've never heard of it."

"It's not my fault you're illiterate, Padfoot."

"I am not illiterate!" Sirius insisted stubbornly, "And I'm _not_ littler than you!"

James turned to face his friend, and Sirius scowled to see that his fellow marauder's eye line was now at least an inch higher than his own. James smiled simply, shrugging innocently and returning his attention to the one eyed witch. His argument pointless, seeing as it was clear James _had_ literally outgrown him, Sirius remained silent as he waited for the passageway to open.

"What's the spell again?" James whispered. "It's been ages since I went down this way."

"Open Sesame," Sirius mumbled grumpily.

"Ha, ha, ha," James said in a snarky voice. "No seriously, what is it?"

"Dissendium, troll-brain. Now hurry up!"

"Alright, calm it," James cried defensively, muttering _Dissendium_ as he tapped the statue. At once a crack opened up at the hump, and James clambered in with a small amount of wriggling. Sirius cast a glance around to make sure no-one was in the vicinity before scrambling up to follow his friend. He slotted his legs through the slender space, wiggling his hips through and then his waist until…

"_James_!" he cried desperately.

"What?" James' voice was muffled, but Sirius could distinctly hear a snigger.

"I'm stuck!" Sirius whimpered, his brow puckering and straining with his effort to free himself. "Laughing is not helping, Potter!" he growled at his friend's chuckling. "Help me!"

Complying eagerly, James grabbed Sirius' flailing legs and heaved, resulting in nothing but a loud screech from the trapped boy. Sirius gasped as his breath was forced out of his lungs, his eyes widening in an attempt to stifle his protesting wail.

"What in the name of _Merlin_, Padfoot? You're a useless lump!"

"It's not my fault if I'm buffer than you!" was all Sirius could retort with. "Not all of us are supremely tall bowtruckles, you know," he snapped. "Ow!" he grunted as James punched his leg.

"I am not a bowtruckle."

"Get over yourself Prongs, I'm stuck here! If anyone walks around the corner we're screwed! Where the hell is your damn cloak?" His friend's incoherent reply was not promising. "What was that?" Sirius asked sweetly, gritting his teeth.

"I lent it to Juliette and India-Rose."

"You lent your cloak to _Swindon_ over me?" Sirius roared, horrified at such base treachery. "You traitor! You dishonourable," he gasped as he managed to force his body down another inch. "Disgusting," another few centimetres. "Distrustful," he let out another cry as he forced himself down until his armpits were resting on the crack. "Doxy face." He let out a loud _oof_ when his feet hit the ground.

"You finished?" James asked.

"Yes."

"Shall we, Miss Moneypenny?"

"Not until you present me with an explanation for your utterly un-Marauderish behaviour."

"They're going down to the kitchens tonight. There's more chance of being caught down there. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to sleep at some point tonight. McGonagall was hinting at springing an end of term exam on us tomorrow."

"So what?" Sirius asked. "We can do transfiguration in our sleep. If you have perhaps forgotten…" and on the spot his form melted into that of a large shaggy dog.

"Very clever," James muttered, Sirius now following him along the passage at a brisk pace on all fours. "But given she doesn't know about that, it won't help us pass our exams. Something I intend to do, Padfoot."

"Only to impress Lilykins," Sirius said smugly once back in human form.

"Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-mih-mah-mah."

"Such maturity! It's a wonder Lily-flower hasn't fallen for you yet, Prongs."

"Ssh!" James held up a hand, his eyes widening as his gaze fell upon the trapdoor, through which they could hear a sudden rustling coming from the cellar of Honeydukes.

"Who's that?" Sirius mouthed, and James shrugged. They waited for a few moments, but eventually curiosity got the better of them and together they pushed the trapdoor up to peek through the dark.

The figures were indistinct, little more than silhouettes and shadows dancing through the dark, their intentions unclear, but they were definitely up to _something_. Abruptly a hissing voice shouted orders to _Get out now_, and the outlines of what looked like five individuals ran back up the stairs and into the main shop.

The two boys beneath the trapdoor glanced at one another; catching James' eye, Sirius nodded, and together they leapt out, scrambling desperately to silently follow the strangers.

The group, which now looked to be ten strong at least, were congregated in the middle of the street outside, cloaks wrapped tightly around their bodies against the icy winds that swept the village of Hogsmeade. Without warning, before James and Sirius could get a look at any of their faces, they all turned on the spot, vanishing and leaving behind no traces but for the sludgy footsteps in the snow.

"Death Eaters?" James asked quietly, and Sirius shrugged.

"Since when are Death Eaters _sneaky?_ They go in with flags waving and spells shooting all over the place. There was too many of them to be spies."

Abruptly Sirius closed his mouth firmly, eyes troubled with shame at his own knowledge of the enemy. He hated the fact he had been born into that mess, born with the hope of actually being _like_ the rest of his family. James smiled encouragingly and slung an arm over his shoulder.

"Well they've gone now. Want to have a look what they were doing?" he sounded excited. The two boys grinned and returned their attentions to the shop. The main area itself looked untouched, but they investigated each corner anyway, just to make sure. Once they were sure there was nothing suspicious about the racks of sweets – having sampled a few to make sure they were poisoned or cursed, of course – they returned to the cellar.

Their lit wands cast an eerie glow around the room, which was full of stacked boxes and crates with various labels, all with the same _Honeyduke's_ print on the side.

"There's nothing!" Sirius whispered to James from across the room where he was busy inspecting a crate of sugar quills.

"I know!" was James' muffled reply.

"What were they doing?"

"How should I know?"

"It was a rhetorical question!"

Standing up straight, James threw Sirius a disparaging look, which soon became smirk when he heard Sirius' sulky voice mutter "_See? Not illiterate..._"

"Should we get going?" James asked. "It's the full moon soon, we don't want to be tired on Werewolf Watch."

"We'll be at your parents' house!" Sirius looked horrified.

"So? We did it in the summer," James pointed out in an obvious tone.

"Err, yeah, when it was _summer_ and there was no _snow_ to let mum and dad know what we'd been up to!" Upon seeing the wide grin on James' face, he sighed hopelessly.

"The risk's what makes it fun, my friend," was all James replied with. "You first," and he indicated the trapdoor.

Sirius made a start, walking down the dark passage slowly with his bag, which was full of sweets, preceding him at chest height under the command of his wand.

As he walked he tried to dispel the nagging concern flipping his stomach. Anywhere else, he'd have been more than happy to run around as usual on a full moon, but this was the house of the people who had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go. He owed a lot, probably his life, to the Potter family. Unlike James he was not their biological son, and he couldn't escape the sense of his own betrayal, repaying them for their kindness by putting himself, their only child, and even _them_ in danger. And on their own soil at that.

He shook his head. _Starting to turn into Moony_, he told himself. A conscience? When had he developed such a thing?

"How you doing?" he asked James, but his question didn't need answering at the sight of the overlarge bag in the taller boy's arms. "Ever heard of shrinking charms? Or maybe levitation spells?" he asked, rolling his eyes as James stumbled and his bag came tumbling down onto the floor, soon followed by the imbalanced boy.

"Yes," James snapped, hot and bothered from the effort of carrying the bag which he gave a strong kick of resentment where it lay. "I just…didn't feel…didn't…"

"Forgot?" Sirius asked with a grin. "Oh, so not only is Mr Black musclier, more impressively skilled, better looking…"

"Shorter," James cut in, and Sirius scowled at him.

"But he is also a great deal _cleverer_ than his friend! Well, isn't this an interesting turn of events? Perhaps _I_ should have been made Head Boy."

"Like you'd have wanted it," James retorted.

"Ha! Head Boy? Responsibility? Rule abiding?" Sirius shuddered at the thought.

"E-xactly," James said, elongating the _e_ as he raised his arms, grabbed the crack that appeared above their heads at a swish of his wand, and heaved himself up and out into the school corridor once more. "Come on then, first bag," he ordered, and Sirius passed it up, groaning under its weight.

"Told you it was a good idea to do it in stages," Sirius muttered darkly when James gasped as he dropped the bag by his side and reached down for the second one.

"Yes, yes," James said sharply.

"Can you imagine carrying these _and_ drinks?" Sirius asked, his voice smug.

"I know, Padfoot! Now hurry up, we still have to get _you_ out of there too, remember?" James smirked as Sirius promptly ceased his self-assured comments, instead grumbling incoherently. He cast another furtive glance around the empty corridor, hating more and more his decision to cave in to Juliette's nagging and give her his invisibility cloak. Paranoid, he imagined shapes weaving in and out of the shadows, eyes watching him and footsteps ringing through the dark.

"James?"

"Yes?" His voice was abruptly low, as if he was suddenly aware of the fact that the night was young, and prefects may very well still be wandering the corridors on duty.

"Should we tell someone about the people in Honeydukes?"

James considered this. They would probably never see the light of day again if they confessed, but if they didn't…if the cloaked figures really _were_ Death Eaters…he couldn't bear to imagine what would happen if that was the case.

"Not now, we'll wait until morning. Alright then, up you come buggerlugs."

"Buggerlugs?" Sirius squealed. "My ears are perfectly proportioned, thank you very much! Where did you get that name from?" he asked accusingly.

Refusing to answer (much to Sirius' suspicion) James reached back down, seized his friend by the wrists, and pulled with all his might.

* * *

_It was still dark outside when James awoke. His eyes searched the room with sweeping glances, seeking the source of the noise that had startled him awake in the dim light cast by his glowing wand. He frowned, reluctantly clambering out of bed and walking to the other side of the room. Through his window he could see nothing but the garden outside; the vast midnight sky of stars, the crescent moon's sickly glow, the hills beyond the grounds that had belonged to the Potter family for generations._

_He plodded back to bed, slipping under the covers and smiling as warmth enveloped him in a comforting embrace; the strangled yelp of his name that he had been sure he had heard was already forgotten._

_It didn't take long for him to drift back into blissful sleep once more, and when he did his dreams were untroubled for quite some time._

_But his fitful rest was disturbed when for the second time he was woken by what he was convinced was a voice shouting his name. This time it was different. More distant, but at the same time much closer. He couldn't explain it, but it prickled the back of his neck. It had sounded like…no, of course not. He was just being paranoid._

_He closed his eyes, wrapping the duvet tighter around his body, but this time sleep evaded him, no matter how he tried to return to his contented dream that he was fairly certain had included a particular redheaded beauty._

_It wasn't long before he decided to accept that he simply wasn't going to sleep. Throwing on an old Wimbourne Wasps jumper that had been left in a corner he crept out of his room and down the stairs, intending to raid the cupboards in search of the rest of the apple pie his mother had made the day before._

_He did not reach the kitchen, however, because he was distracted by a sudden knocking on the door, loud and firm and desperate._

_James froze, eyes straining to see through the solid wood, his body tense. The knocking continued, and he gritted his teeth, suddenly regretting his decision to leave his wand in his room. Underage he might be, but he had no qualms about breaking that particular law if his house was about to be stormed by Death Eaters. His eyes flicked upstairs, wondering whether or not the knocking had woken his mother._

"_James!" the figure outside bellowed, and the panicked boy let out a sigh of relief that soon transformed into a cry of bemusement. What was Sirius doing outside his house at this time of night? "Ja-ames!" Sirius repeated, his knocks becoming infrequent, his voice sing-song and cheery._

_James walked to the door, precautionary efforts dismissed as he opened it to reveal a swaying Sirius Black._

"_What are you-woah!" James leapt forward to catch his best friend as Sirius staggered forwards and dropped to the floor. "What are you doing here?" he asked forcefully, but Sirius merely reached up and slapped his face lightly in a friendly gesture, scrunching his nose up and mumbling fondly._

"_Aww, isn't that sweet? You sound worried. About me!"_

"_Jamie," Jacinta Potter said softly, creeping lightly down the stairs, her frown deeply set in her kind face. "What are you doing…Sirius!" she cried, and rushed to join her son in the hallway, kneeling over the fallen boy, whose entire expression lit up at the sight of her._

"_Mummy!" the sixteen year old cried from his resting place on the hallway rug, and he reached up to kiss his best friend's mother on the cheek affectionately._

_Maternal instincts taking over, Jacinta rubbed the boy's cheek lovingly, unnerved by his glassy eyes and the vacant joy of his laughter._

"_Mum," James murmured as Sirius continued to chat away to himself, chuckling every now and again. "Is he…I think he's drunk."_

_James' eyebrows shot up when his mother agreed with him, nodding with concern._

"_Let's get him up, James. Come on sweetheart," she encouraged Sirius gently, pulling him up by the arm, but released him quickly as Sirius thrashed violently under her grip._

"_Let me," James offered, and he reached down to heave his friend to his feet, taking the protesting hits Sirius dealt him without complaint. He ignored Sirius' furious orders to release him, zoning out altogether when Sirius started threatening to kill him with his bare hands, turning all his attention to half-supporting, half-carrying the drunken boy up stairs to the guest room closest to his own._

_Sirius' energy had been all but totally spent by the time James dropped him on the bed. Jacinta followed, having quickly made a trip to the potions cabinet to retrieve a sleeping draft which she determinedly poured into Sirius' open mouth. He spluttered, coughing most of it up, but the effect was immediate, and soon Sirius' mutinous muttering faded to a heavy indistinct mumble, his eyes closing as the restful paralysis of sleep took over._

_James watched, fingers tenderly pressing his right eye which had started to swell from the punch he had received at Sirius' violent protesting, and bit his lip as his mother began to inspect the bruises littering Sirius. Bruises he had failed to notice, too busy trying to restrain a violent – and much stronger– Sirius without falling backwards down the stairs._

"_James, go downstairs. There's a green vial in the potions cabinet with a PMS label on it. Fetch it."_

_James threw her a look of combined disgust and disbelief._

"_PMS?" he spluttered, and Jacinta huffed loudly._

"_It's not PMS potion; I just labelled it like that so you wouldn't go near it."_

"_Then what is it?" James scoffed._

"_It's Soothing Solution."_

_James narrowed his eyes, "The _Hangover Cure!_" he demanded, outraged at his mother's betrayal._

"_Well I wasn't very well going to let you get your hands on it, was I?" She looked up at him expectantly, and James shrugged ruefully. They were interrupted, however, when Sirius whimpered in his sleep as Jacinta's fingers brushed over a dark blossom beneath his right eye. "Hurry up!" she urged her son._

_With one last glance at Sirius, James raced out of the room and into the bathroom where most of the potions were kept. As he rooted frantically through the vials, bottles and tubes of various potions, his mind worked even faster, worry shaking in his hands and prickling in his eyes._

_He couldn't help the guilt swelling cold and heavy in his chest. He should have known…should have realised after three days of no letters or word from the mirrors that something was going on. He should have known that his best friend was in trouble. But he hadn't thought about that. He'd simply gone on, accepting the silence and hoping everything would turn out for the best._

_When he returned to the guest room the lights had been turned on to a dim glow, casting eerie shadows over Sirius' face, enhancing the bruises and darkening a bright crimson line over his cheek that had been a gaping cut only minutes before, now repaired under the expert hand of Jacinta Potter._

"_Here we go," the woman said softly. She gestured for James to support Sirius while she tipped the odourless contents of the vial into his slack mouth, only a few drops, but apparently enough, because Jacinta's expression lifted back to her motherly smile, the lines in her face seeming kinder as her eyes softened. "He'll be alright," she promised, taking her son's hand and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles soothingly._

"_I know," James said, his lips fumbling over the simple words. He frowned at a particularly large bruise that stained most of Sirius' jaw an ugly purple, relieved that the boy had managed to find his way to the Potter house without too much trouble. He wondered vaguely how Sirius had managed it, but he saved his curiosity and decided to wait until the sleeping boy awoke._

"_Your father's on the night shift. He'll be back in the morning," Jacinta reminded James, who removed his hand from her grip and jumped up to perch on the chest of drawers, his eyes not leaving his best friend. "You should get some more sleep. He won't wake up for a while yet."_

_James shook his head. "No, I'll stay here." Jacinta nodded sadly. She rubbed her son's knee tenderly and walked out of the door, exhaustion weighing down her shoulders. "Thanks mum," James added before she left. She smiled, but said no more as she returned to her bed._

_James stayed perfectly still, staring angrily into Sirius' restful face. His hands twitched violently in his lap, futile and desperate. There was nothing to be done but wait._

* * *

There was no end of term Transfiguration test after all, much to the delight of all Professor McGonagall's NEWT students. There were, however, stern words to be said to several of her students once the lesson had finished.

"Can I see all the Gryffindors before you leave, please," she said curtly, eyes not leaving the first roll of parchment that had been handed in as homework. The Gryffindors, who had happily enjoyed the majority of their hour making last minute plans for their party, exchanged looks of panic. As one they approached the desk with caution, each cowering in anticipation of the infamous McGonagall Glare. "Now, word has reached my ear of a little party you are all planning as part of your way to make sure Hogwarts doesn't forget you once you leave."

It was not a question, but each student nodded, mumbling fearful words.

"I just want you to know that as glad as I am that you're all having fun, if things get too rowdy I will be holding each and every one of you seventh years responsible, do you hear me?" she asked, eyes finally leaving the papers and staring up at their faces, which were filled with relief. She gave them a look that could have been the hint of a smile, but dismissed them before they could be sure.

In one great movement they rushed for the door, staggering out into the corridor and sharing words of excitement.

"Ahh, I thought for a moment there that we were in for hell!" Juliette hooted, swinging an arm over Lily's shoulders and grinning. Transfiguration had been their last lesson of the day, which meant it was finally time for them to make a proper start on the party that would begin in a few short hours.

"We _will_ be if anything goes wrong," Wendy warned, a stern look on her face as she turned first to Juliette, then to James and Sirius, all three of whom smiled innocently.

"We'll keep them under control," Lily promised with a wink. "Don't you worry, Wendy."

They all continued to laugh and joke as they made their way back to their common room, too excited to notice James and Sirius lagging behind.

"Should we go to McGonagall now?" James whispered, and Sirius shrugged, looking equally lost.

"Don't know," was all Sirius could think to say. "I know, why don't we save it until tomorrow morning before we leave? That way we're going home anyway, whether we get expelled or not. Mum and dad wouldn't even notice until term starts again and we don't go back!" he looked delighted at the plan. James, on the other hand, was not so easily pleased.

"She wouldn't really ex_pel_ us, would she?"

"Psshht, probably not. Just give us one endless detention until the start of NEWTs, that's all."

James glanced over his shoulder, back down the corridor to where the Deputy Headmistress was still working, at a loss as to what to do. Though little reassured by Sirius' hearty slap on the back, he grinned all the same, nodded conspiratorially. They ran to catch up with their friends, who had begun squabbling between themselves over whether to put all the drinks out first, or gradually bring out the bottles.

When the dispute was finally resolved – under the authoritative command of drink supervisors Indy and Moony – there commenced a great deal of joking, laughter, arm-linking and hugging.

James smiled almost shyly as he caught Lily's eye. She hadn't seemed to notice that in hugging _everyone, _she had also hugged _him_, because she continued to smile happily at his bemused expression before turning to join a debate between Lizzie and Juliette over what was more important: party preparations, or their own dresses.

He looked away bashfully, too quickly to notice Lily's secret smile of her own.

* * *

"_How you doing, chuck?" Lizzie asked, wrapping an arm around Lily's shoulders as the redhead took a seat next to her, only to be thrown off. She looked ready to retort to Lily's silent treatment, to point out that _she_ had done nothing wrong, but refrained from the look Wendy threw her. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and most of the school were taking advantage of the day to escape the confines of the castle._

_The library seemed larger in the total silence, no book pages rustling or quick whispers from students brave enough to go against Madam Switt's orders._

"_He was a waste of time anyway, Lils," Juliette said nonchalantly, her expression bored as she lamented sacrificing a day of freedom to mope with her friend. She knew perfectly well Lily would have been much happier distracted by shopping and butterbeer than sulking in the gloom of the castle._

_Lily glared at her friend, and looking up Juliette could see the redhead's bottom lip tremble, her red eyes puffy with tears._

_Juliette raised her eyebrows, her lips twisting in a _'what can you do?' _expression. She knew she was right, and wasn't going to appease Lily's need to wallow in her misery. Instead, after shooting India-Rose an annoyed glance and rubbing the leg that had been kicked sharply, Juliette returned to her book._

_Lily felt her lips twitch, despite feeling a little as if there would never be a reason to smile again. She knew Juliette was simply doing everything she could to keep her from falling into a pit of despair._

_The only problem was that that was exactly what she wanted to do. Every time she thought about throwing her troubles away and putting on a brave front, she remembered the way _he_ had laughed – actually laughed! – at her trying to stand up against the other Slytherins._

_She had made sure to smile all the way through breakfast, surrounded by other students. But these were her best friends. She didn't have to pretend in front of them._

_She knew couldn't, anyway._

"_He isn't worth getting upset over," India-Rose said lightly._

_Lily turned away. Severus Snape meant more to her than she could ever possibly explain. Though she was sure the girls would never understand it, he would always be worth getting upset over…_

"_If anything, you should be more upset about James," Juliette said with a smirk, her gaze not leaving the page of her book._

"_What do you mean?" Lily asked, shocked at how raspy her own voice sounded. Juliette's eyes flicked up to her briefly._

"_Well, he's going out with Maeve Krissel, isn't he? You should be devastated. Now he's only going to be keeping his eyes on you half of the time…" Juliette allowed herself to smirk with pride as her words earned a smile from Lily, and even a sarcastic rolling of the eyes._

"_Oh yes, I'm heartbroken," the redhead muttered with a reluctant grin. She could feel her natural smile starting to creep back into her expression, the will to inflict her bad mood on her friends dissipating quickly as she thought of James Potter being out of the way for the day._

"_There we go," Juliette said, throwing her book down on the table. "Well, Operation Anti-Depressant seems to have gone pretty well, I'd say," she commented lightly. She winked at Lily, who was blushing with embarrassment. "How about doing something…oh, I don't know, fun? At least let's go into the grounds and not stay in this stuffy library," she begged, and the other girls all nodded happily._

_Lily shook her head as she heard Juliette mutter a not-so-subtle "Yessss!" under her breath. Sometimes, though she would never dare say it, Lily felt very much reminded of Potter and Black when in the presence of Juliette._

_The five Gryffindor girls walked along the corridor, celebrating being able to talk properly by laughing loudly, all bunched together in an unconsciously protective formation._

"_We still haven't done anything to commemorate the ending of OWLs," Lizzie said in mocking despair. "We should plan a relaxation party!"_

_There was a general consensus among the others, and soon their heads were up the clouds as they began bouncing ideas as to how best to rejoice in their new lack of revision pressures._

_Lily listened half-heartedly, nodding in an attempt to pretend she was listening. She appreciated Juliette's arm linking her own, feeling a lot more included for the gesture, despite still barely noticing what was being said. She couldn't completely shrug off the immense weight of regret hanging over her._

_Every time she thought about how much freedom she now had, she could think only about how much she wished another of her friends was with her to share the relief with._

_Not this new Severus, however, she reminded herself firmly. No, she had no desire to befriend _him_. But the old Severus…the badly dressed, timid boy she had first met before she even knew her uncanny connection to the abnormal was something more than simply being the odd one out. She wanted the Severus who had explained this world she had grown to love as much as the muggle one, the Severus who informed her she was not weird but exceptional; not a freak, but a witch._

_Sometimes she felt as if she could almost forgive him for what he had said to her that day by the lake…but then she remembered the other arguments that that day had preceded, both public and private, as their friendship shattered not only before their own eyes, but before the eyes of all their own friends as well._

"_What do you think…hey you, stargazer!" Lizzie punched the distant redhead on the arm, her expression excited. "What do you think?"_

"_Oh…errm…" she caught sight of Wendy over Lizzie's shoulder, mouthing the words _'Sounds lovely'_, which she then repeated aloud. Lizzie grinned at the compliment, and continued to babble about whether or not there was enough time to race down to Hogsmeade and buy some more decorations to make a banner with._

"_Thank you," Lily whispered to Wendy, and Wendy shrugged, her smile casual. She was used to covering for Lily's thousand-mile-stare, the moments (of which there were many, she often teased lightly) when Lily's concentration failed her and she lost track of what on earth was going on._

_It was decided that there _was_ enough time to get to Hogsmeade, and with the excuse of being too depressed now clearly false, Lily could only agree it was a good idea to get out of the castle grounds altogether._

_Their journey was cut short, however, by the sounds of yelped screaming coming from just outside the main entrance doors to the castle._

_The girls exchanged looks of bewilderment, and without waiting they quickly hastened to the grounds outside to inspect the commotion._

_Their eyes soon fell upon a group of boys all running around, tripping over their own feet, hands flapping about their heads. The group of Slytherins before them were being plagued by what appeared to be several hundred angry buzzing insects, each boy covered in some sort of sticky residue, and this is what was clearly attracting the bees now clinging to their skin._

_Lily caught sight of Severus among the boys, and without warning she began to laugh._

_It was painful, freeing laugh, louder possibly even than Juliette's howl._

_She knew it was cruel, and she knew that the stings were probably quite excruciating. But still she laughed as the group of Slytherin boys continued chasing one another around, trying to remove the substance from their bodies, succeeding only in rubbing it harder into their skin. _

"_The bees must be charmed," India-Rose said. She too was laughing, but appeared more curious than amused, peering over at them as if hoping to get a closer look at the cause of the bees' ferocity._

"_Who cares?" Juliette said, hands tightly gripping her knees as she laughed along with Lily._

_Lily sighed in her amusement. She hadn't thought she would be laughing so soon after losing possibly her dearest – certainly her oldest – magical friend, but she was glad she had been wrong._

_She continued down the path to Hogsmeade, the girls deciding it would be unwise to hang around a bunch of riled up Slytherin boys, her heart considerably lighter than before._

_Had she looked to her left, she'd have noticed four boys watching from not too far away, each expression filled with victory. However, while three pairs of eyes followed the tracks of the Slytherins, one pair of hazel eyes followed her as she walked away, his expression much closer to compassion and relief than she could have ever expected from the boy she supposedly loathed so much._

* * *

The set up of the common room did not take long. The seventh years were eager to be prepared for the first of the Gryffindors to arrive back from dinner and find the common room an explosion of Christmas festivities that would rival even the Great Hall. The only non-seventh year present was a second year girl by the name of Alexandra Issett, a muggle born girl who idolised the Head Girl, was already planning her career – working with magical creatures, particularly Unicorns and Thestrals (Lily had refrained from asking further with great difficulty) – and had a talent for photography.

Alexandra had been spending her evening getting in everyone's way as she snapped quick photo shots to her heart's delight, capturing everything from Sirius mid-belch in Juliette's face, to Lily mid-rant in James' face.

Things did calmed down, however, and Lily eventually sank into an armchair, exhausted from her efforts, hoping very much that this party would be worth the effort.

"Get off your arse right now and get upstairs, Evans!" Lizzie ordered, looking scandalised.

"Why?" Lily moaned, closing her eyes as if preparing to take a nice little nap.

"Because!" Lizzie screeched, her energy endless in her excitement. "We have to get ready!" Lily glanced at Alexandra, winking, and the girl giggled as Lily continued to protest loudly.

"Fine!" Lily gave in after a few minutes, not wanting to waste her voice on arguing _before_ the party started, when she could waste it all night singing muggle Christmas Carols at the top of her voice – something she planned to do with all her might. "Go on, Alexandra," she said with a smile. "I'll see you at the party."

She had been very strict about making sure that the girl was unaware of the alcohol, and was glad that Sirius and James had kept their promise. The deal was to save the alcohol until _after_ the younger students were safely to bed, or at least otherwise distracted and would hopefully not notice.

She knew her attempts at being the mature, responsible one were futile, but she didn't give in. At least she would be able to say she'd done everything she could.

"Lily," Wendy stopped the redhead in her tracks. "Look at this."

Wendy held up a photo that Alexandra had taken for Lily to see.

Alexandra had been eager to show off her new magical camera, and had taken photographs in abundance. It seemed that they had developed a new model that could take pictures _and_ lace it with potion at the same time, meaning the photos moving of the figures was instantaneous. Lily doubted Alexandra would be using it for long; the cost of the vials of concentrated potion was extortionate, but try as she might she hadn't been able to convince the girl to save her photos for another time.

"I'll be right up Liz," Lily promised and the blonde girl shouted down her reluctant consent, already half way up the stairs, eager to put on her new dress, which was deepest crimson and incredibly short. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's us!" Wendy cried, and Lily nodded.

"Yes, I can see that. So what?"

"No," Wendy sighed dramatically, looking unusually excited. "It's _us_, literally!"

"Yes, I know, I can see that!" Lily cried. Wendy gave a cry of frustration.

"No, look at where we are, at what we're doing…everything is just so…in character."

The photo was a wide shot of the common room, and every one of the nine seventh years were present. Wendy pointed to the little moving figure of Lily, who was busying herself with the food. "There you are, fixing things up so they're perfect."

Her finger moved over to the couch, where James and Sirius were sat, their backs propped up against one another. James appeared to be fixing some decorations by hand, but every few seconds Lily could distinctly see his eyes flick up to look at the little figure of her. "There's James, always looking at you while you look the other way." Lily blushed, and quickly moved on to the next figure pointed out to her.

"Peter…" Lily twisted her lips as she saw Peter also sorting out the food beside her. He seemed to be chatting amicably to both her and James, but she couldn't remember listening to him at all, too absorbed in her task to communicate with anyone, while James' gaze was only ever on the fancy holly leaves in his hands or the redhead behind the table.

"Sirius and Juliette…" Wendy needed to explain no further. While James sat docile and content with his handiwork, calmly keeping one eye on the task at hand and the other on Lily, Sirius' expression was full of mirth, his whole body shaking with laughter. Juliette, on the other hand, who was standing at the side of the couch, looked aggravated as she ranted and raved with an angry blush in her cheeks, pointing at Sirius every now and again in a gesture of supreme _telling off_.

"And there's Lizzie," her finger traced the blonde girl on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her as she painted her fingernails. Her back was pressed against Sirius' side of the couch, her head resting back to lean against Sirius' hip. Neither seemed to have noticed, and Lily pursed her lips in wonder, saying nothing.

"And Remus and India-Rose," Wendy continued, apparently unaware of Lily's intrigue about Lizzie's choice of seating.

Lily grinned properly at the pair stood further away, both deep in conversation as they pinned up some sort of banner to the wall. Their smiles were wide, India-Rose positively beaming, their attention completely captured by one another, and Lily sighed in a satisfied manner. If there was one thing she hoped would come of this night, it would be Remus and India-Rose finally ending the ridiculous pretence that they were simply good friends.

"And you," Lily said quietly, her own finger reaching up to trace over the picture of Wendy, her mop of black hair not completely covering the concentrated expression on her face as she read a paragraph of her Divination book.

"Yes. And me," Wendy said quietly, blushing at her apparent solitude. Lily wrapped her arm around her friend.

"It's perfect," she said, and Wendy grinned.

"It is, isn't it?"

* * *

"_So this is your last year, right?"_

"_Yes, Joshua, my last year," Wendy said with a sigh, using her brother's full name to emphasise her lack of interest in talking. As ever, he didn't take the hint._

"_What you going to do once you leave then?" he asked. Wendy pressed her lips together._

"_Well, I wanted to work in Muggle Liaison," she said in a frank voice. "But with the war and everything I just don't see that happening."_

"_You know, for such a serious war there doesn't seem to be much mass destruction going on. It's hardly World War Three," her brother sniggered._

"_Not to you," Wendy said sharply. "But there's plenty of mass destruction from where I see things."_

_Josh fell silent, and Wendy was glad of the peace. She was desperately trying to get her last Transfiguration essay finished. As much as she missed her brother whenever she was away, his presence was much closer to hindering than helping._

_At twenty years of age Joshua Dorrington had still not found 'his place' in the world, and consequently could find nothing better to do than badger his younger sister about the inner workings of 'her world'._

"_Aren't you excited?" he asked, and Wendy dropped her quill, eyes returning to his face. There was no use continuing her work until she'd satisfied him with a few answers at the very least._

"_Yes, I am," she replied._

"_You don't sound very excited," he said lightly. Wendy shrugged._

"_You don't sound very excited about starting university this year," she pointed out, and Josh grimaced._

"_Well duh, I'm going back _into _education. You're leaving it. There's kind of a huge difference."_

_Wendy considered this, licking her chapped lips and frowning at her brother a little, wondering how on earth she could be related to this boy._

"_I'd rather be thrown into another few years of education than straight into the middle of a war."_

"_And miss all the excitement?" Josh looked alarmed. "Hell, I've _never_ envied you until now, Pooh-Bear," he cried, refusing to apologise for using the loathed nickname of his sister's childhood. "But now? I'd give anything to fight bad guys with a bunch of sparks shooting out of a wand!"_

_Wendy considered explaining to Josh how very different Death Eaters were to pranksters firing sparkly showers out of sticks of wood, but decided against it. Let him dream, she told herself, better that than have him worry about your safety all the time…_

"_What about your friends? And hey, how come I've never met these people before?" he demanded, pointing to the picture stuck to her bedroom wall of a group of girls all standing together, clad in bright gold and crimson colours and waving a large lion-crested flag in the air. Wendy swivelled around on her computer chair so she could lean against her desk. She looked over at her neatly made bed where the young man was lying, purposefully messing up her pillows and gazing at her photos with a distant awe, amused by the way some of them moved._

"_I'm not really…" Wendy began, but soon ceased to speak and returned to her work. She groaned internally when her bed creaked as Josh stood, stepped across the short space between them and knelt beside her suspiciously._

"_Not really what?" he asked slowly, eyes narrowed._

"_It's nothing," Wendy waved her hand to dismiss her previous statement – or lack of._

"_Tell me," Josh said darkly, placing a hand on her shoulder and swinging her around with considerable force so they were face to face._

_Wendy blushed. "I'm a bit of an outsider I guess."_

"_Why, because of us?" Josh sounded horrified at the thought of his lack of magical powers causing his sister distress._

"_No!" Wendy cried abruptly. "Of course not!" She was in Gryffindor for goodness sake! "I'm just not much like the others…Lily's a muggleborn too, and she's fine. I'm just not very…_outgoing_, I suppose. But neither is India-Rose," she said worriedly. "It's just me. I don't fit in properly. The only thing I can do really well is divination, and the rest of them think it's a load of rubbish. But I had that dream about your accident didn't I?" she insisted, and both brother and sister winced at the memory._

_Wendy hadn't been quick enough to realise the difference between dreams and visions during her fourth year, and hadn't been able to warn her brother about the car hitting his bicycle. She had cried herself to sleep in guilt for days, only allowing herself some forgiveness once he regained consciousness and they'd been sure he was going to live._

_Moving on quickly, her words sped up as she rushed to confess everything before she lost her nerve. "And I'm not like the others, I'm not that brave. I've never done anything worthy or honourable or even _interesting_. I'm just, you know, Wendy. I'm normal. I'm friendly but boring; nice but, well, nothing special."_

_Josh frowned darkly at his sister's words, unsure of what to say to convince her otherwise. Instead he did something much more unexpected. He reached out and enveloped her in a tight embrace._

"_You're the most special person in this family, Wendy. And you'll do us proud," he promised. "You already do."_

* * *

"Impressive," India-Rose said with a grin as she handed Remus a cup of Firewhiskey. "Barely an hour into it and already they've starting singing the words wrong." Remus smiled, cringing at Sirius' rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, but chuckling along with the girl all the same. He pointed his wand at the magical wireless, turning up the volume of Fantasia Xylena until she was loud enough to drown out Sirius' husky voice.

"Care to dance?" he offered India-Rose with a smile, the drink making him feel considerably bolder than he was sure he would have been without it.

"I'd love to," India-Rose accepted. She took his outstretched hand, smiling as they began to dance, intimate enough to talk but hopefully not so close as to attract the attention of their friends, all of whom, they knew, would be watching with keen eyes, albeit distracted by the success of their party.

"It's going well, isn't it?" Remus said after a few moments of turning on the spot, hands placed as firmly as he dared on India-Rose's waist.

"Yes," India-Rose agreed thoughtfully. She glanced around at the gold and crimson that was almost blinding to see, Christmas decorations everywhere all charmed to flash in their house colours.

They fell back into a silence that was not altogether comfortable, but not quite awkward enough to halt their shuffling feet as they swayed vacantly in the circle that had been reserved for those brave enough to partner up and dance. Remus watched as subtly as possible as India-Rose kept her eyes on either the crowd of Gryffindors or their feet, fighting the sudden – and _drunken_, he told himself firmly – urge to capture her lips with his own.

He almost flinched when finally she returned her gaze to him. Her dark blue eyes were wide, and her smile was tentative, trusting.

"Thanks," she said softly. Remus threw her a quizzical look.

"What for?"

"You know," she shrugged. "Talking to me…and not talking to me when I didn't want to. I really appreciate it. I know I'm not the easiest person to talk to when I'm determined to ward people away from me." Remus chuckled breathlessly, but shook his head fondly.

"No offence," he murmured. "But you aren't exactly Juliette, are you? Now _she's_ impossible to talk to when she's not in the mood." They shared another laugh, both turning to look over at their friend. Juliette was deep in conversation with Lily, both of whom were standing behind the drinks counter. While Juliette handed bottles out freely, Lily tried to monitor how old their customers were, sometimes taking a bottle from a hand and scolding Juliette for giving a second year some Firewhiskey, who in turn looked horrified at being told off by her best friend.

"I suppose you're right," India-Rose agreed. "But that doesn't excuse the temper tantrums."

"Well, no," Remus said, his expression serious as he concentrated on still moving his feet. "But I think other things could do." India-Rose rolled her eyes, but looked closer to frustrated than outright annoyed.

"I won't let Brogan be my excuse every time I screw up." Her voice was firm, a look of closure on her face as she closed her eyes, exhaled once, and then returned her gaze to Remus' face.

"Then he won't be. I'll just automatically put all the blame on you every time," Remus said, earning a grateful laugh from the girl in his arms.

India-Rose felt a blush stain her cheeks, and she realised with some alarm that they had stopped moving. They stood perfectly still, his arms around her waist, hers over his shoulders. Her fingers clasped at the nape of his neck, strands of his sandy hair tickling her palms.

They appeared quite suddenly to be standing a lot closer than before; she noticed a small scar over his left eye that was too small to see from a distance, but she could see it perfectly now. Her smile was nervous and shy, but the knot in her chest loosened a little as she realised Remus' expression was an almost perfect mirror of her own feelings.

His gentle eyes were full of the same curious excitement that she could feel rattling in her stomach.

Unconsciously she leaned forwards…

"_Shitting bastard-what the-get off-Prongs get it-get off me-SWINDON!"_

Remus and India-Rose both pulled away abruptly, their faces almost close enough for their noses to brush against one another as they turned to the corner of the room, where Sirius was jumping up and down, a large banner chasing him around in an attempt to smother him and pin him to the ground.

India-Rose felt annoyance bottle inside her and threaten to overflow. If she was going to be interrupted during what could well have been the most anticipated and wonderful moment of her _life_, it could have at least been for a genuine murder attempt, and not a highly unoriginal and boring prank of Juliette's. She looked back over at Remus, and disappointment flooded through her as she saw him glance at her once, expression wary, and then excuse himself.

The girl raised her hands to run them through the curls Lizzie had spent so long perfecting for her, then quickly smoothed a crease out of her midnight blue dress before walking away, highly self conscious and utterly infuriated with Juliette's bad timing.

* * *

"_That's it. Get the hell out of my house. I never want to see you again, you hear me boy? Never!"_

_Then give her to me and l won't come back. I promise. Just give me Indy and I'll leave!"_

_A young India-Rose sat on a chair at the kitchen table, watching with tear-filled eyes as her father and brother bellowed at one another in the hallway. She could see Brogan's bag by the doorway, and her body trembled at the thought of her big brother leaving her alone with her father._

"_You're sister stays here," Cillian Norrellreplied coldly. Brogan's pale face flushed with anger._

"_For what? You don't want her. What are you going to do when she goes to Hogwarts? You can't stop her magic, dad. She's going to be a witch, there's nothing you can do about it. You can't escape the magical world by throwing me out! Why would you keep her?"_

"She_ didn't kill her mother, did she?"_

_In the silence four year old India-Rose began to cry, too confused to understand what was going on, but certain that whatever happened, it wouldn't be good._

_Brogan glanced over at his little sister, back to his father, and then walked to the kitchen. He scooped the child into his arms and returned to the hallway, glaring at the man before him. In the safety of her brother's embrace the girl stopped crying, her puffy eyes scrunched up as she was tring to work out why her father was so angry._

"_You see?" Brogan said, and there were tears of his own in his eyes as he clung to the girl. "She's happy with me. She'll be happier with me than anyone else. Especially _you_."_

"_Don't you tell me I don't deserve my daughter, Brogan Norrell!" Cillian roared, and India-Rose trembled as he took a step forwards, finger raised to point defiantly at his son._

"_You don't love her! You don't want anything to do with magic."_

"_I'd rather keep her with me than with a murderer."_

_Brogan's eyes found the dark green bottle in his father's hand, the last dregs of beer swilling in the bottom._

"_It was an accident," he murmured, sounding less like the man he tried so hard to be, more like the seventeen year old boy he really was. "I was angry and…it's hard sometimes, dad."_

_He didn't particularly expect a reply, but it still hurt when his father remained coldly accusing._

"_I loved mum…I didn't want to…" But he could think of nothing to say, no justification that absolved him of his mother's death. He hadn't the words to bridge the rift between himself and his father that had cracked wide open at her demise._

"_What happened to justice? Your mother told me about prisons that you have," Cillian said darkly, and Brogan nodded._

"_I was fifteen!" Brogan bellow, but he quietened when his sister whimpered into his neck. "Professor Dumbledore stopped me from being expelled. You know that. He told you. He explained…" His voice tailed to nothing, ashamed, alone._

"_But you're leaving now anyway?"_

"_Yes," Brogan choked, not quite able to imagine what life was going to be like without the beloved castle he had grown to love as a refuge for the past year, only coming home to see India-Rose. "I can't stay there."_

_As safe as he'd felt there, he couldn't take the stares and the whispers that followed him._

…_there he goes, the boy who blew up his mum's car…_

_He shut out the haunting voices that still followed him even in his head. He was suddenly aware of a pair on small arms around his neck, and he returned India-Rose's hug with vigour._

_He couldn't take her with him. He couldn't let her life's chances be tainted by this blood on his hands._

_Prising her hands from his clothes, he reached over to hand her to their father._

_As the child was passed between them the two men shared a look of pained distrust._

"_Look after her," Brogan murmured, determined not to cry. He kissed her head lightly, ignoring her young cries as they grew louder and louder. He blocked out the way his name rang in his ears, his little sister crying for him to stay with her._

"_I love you Indy. I'll see you around. Just not here," he mumbled at the door._

_Without another word Brogan Norrell left without any intentions of ever coming back._

* * *

"Okay, okay, _okay!_" Sirius stood, bottle of Firewhiskey clasped in his hand, and called for quiet among the group that had congregated in the corner of the room.

As the night wore on groups had begun to form, sectioning off to have mini parties of their own. A drunken Lizzie had reluctantly parted ways with her boyfriend to join the other seventh years and now they all sat in a circle, each holding a full bottle of some dark amber liquid.

Sirius waved his free hand to urge his friends to be quiet, and their conversations dulled as they all looked up at his swaying figure. Grabbing onto James' head for support Sirius began in a loud, authoritative voice.

"Now then, seeing as we're all gathered together, I think it's time we play a game."

"I love games!" Lily squawked, clapping her hands delightedly. Finally accepting that being the responsible one was going to bring her no true happiness, Lily had been going back to the now unmanned counter all night, determined to enjoy the night to the full.

The effects of her change of heart glowed in her red cheeks and bright eyes; her smile was wide and uninhibited.

"It's called _I Never_," Sirius announced proudly, and James let out a _Whoop!_ of glee, as did Juliette and Peter. Remus and Wendy, however, groaned, while the other three girls – Lily, India-Rose and Lizzie – simply looked clueless.

"Oh come on," Peter cried. "You _have_ to have played it before!"

"You've never heard of-hic I Never?" Juliette hiccupped, looking outraged at this scandal. The three girls shook their heads fearfully.

"I'll explain!" Sirius bellowed when Juliette launched into an animated explanation. "We each take it in turns to say _I never…_ and then complete the sentence. If you _have _you take a drink, if not, you don't. So if I say _'I have never kissed a Slytherin'_, which is the truth, because otherwise I would have cut my lips off in disgust, I don't take a drink. If you have never kissed a Slytherin, you also don't drink. If you have, you drink. Understand?"

There was a hum of agreement and Sirius beamed, plonking himself back down between James and Remus.

"I'll go first," Sirius cut in before Juliette could start. "I've never…" his eyes flicked to James for the briefest of moments and grin spread across his face. "Been nicknamed _Buggerlugs_ as a kid."

Though the others all looked confused and shook their heads in turn, Juliette burst out laughing, and along with Sirius howled with laughter as James took a reluctant sip.

"I had to grow into my ears, okay? They weren't _that_ big," he growled.

"_That_ big?" Juliette asked between fits of giggles. "You were like Dimbo!"

"Dumbo, Jules," Wendy corrected her friend. She smiled apologetically at James, who was scowling at Juliette's betrayal.

"My turn," James said firmly, pausing to think for a moment. "I've never…replaced shampoo with whipped cream as a prank, and then accidentally used it myself because I had forgotten what I'd done."

He smiled innocently as Juliette took a quick drink, glowering at Sirius as he launched a full scale attack of taunting jibes. Before Juliette could retort Wendy cut in, as she was next after James.

"I've never insinuated that I was either going out with someone, or very ill, just to avoid spending time with my friends because I was in a bad mood."

Her expression was uncharacteristically smug as first Sirius…then Remus, Lily, India-Rose and Lizzie all began to drink ruefully, looking a little embarrassed. Wendy smiled at her victory, and looked to Lily to go next. Lily paused for a moment, considering what to say.

"I've never…been to a Quidditch match outside Hogwarts," she said simply, and there was a collective '_Booooooo!_' from her friends.

"Boring!" Sirius shouted as he took a long drink of his Firewhiskey – to make up for all the professional Quidditch matches he'd seen, he justified to himself.

"I've never been in a detention that was actually my fault, and not simply getting dragged into something by my friends," Peter said loudly, and Sirius growled playfully as he drank along with everyone but India-Rose and Wendy who, like Peter, tended to only ever get in trouble thanks to their fellow Gryffindors.

"Hmm, bit better," James remarked, nodding in Peter's direction with an accepting grin.

"Alright then," India-Rose cut in, trying desperately to think of something interesting. She wanted to say something witty, perhaps follow Sirius and James' examples and reveal some embarrassing truth about one of her friends, but instead she said something very different, something she had had no intentions of saying at all. "I've never… celebrated a family Christmas." It was the truth. Christmas had never been much of a family affair in the Norrell household, even before Imogen Norrell's death.

Slowly they all drank, all except Lizzie, and a quiet understanding fell between the two girls. India-Rose would have felt guilty for bringing the group's atmosphere down from the high they had all been riding on, but that reassuring look of _me too_ that she received from the blonde was worth it.

"I've never had my parents wave me off from Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

India-Rose caught Juliette's eye as the girl by her side spoke up, and there was a softening of compassion in her eyes. India-Rose smiled sadly, and together they watched as the rest of the group took a drink.

"Well this is putting a downer on things, isn't it?" Sirius mumbled, and there was a hum of agreement, yet no-one seemed particularly interested in lightening the mood. As the buzz of Firewhiskey took hold, they found greater interest in darker, deeper secrets. The secrets that simply couldn't be shared _without_ Firewhiskey.

"I've never told my parents that I love them." Lizzie didn't look at all remorseful at this abrupt truth, and didn't blush under the shocked expressions of her friends as they drank, even Sirius, she noticed with wonder. If there was one person she had expected to be like her, it would have been him. She shrugged. So what if they weren't the lovey, tight-knit family that Lily, or James, or Wendy was used to?

She didn't mind, she told herself brusquely.

Her thoughts were shattered by a quiet voice.

"I've never been subject to the Cruciatus Curse."

It was an unexpected one from Remus, who was staring directly at Sirius. As much as he could lie to Remus with words, the truth would be revealed in a single sip, and to Sirius Black there was no greater foul than cheating at games.

Sirius raised the bottle to his lips, eyes narrowed, but he wasn't angry. He caught Juliette's eye, finding her watching him from over the rim of the bottle as she too took a hasty drink. Sirius slipped the usual grin back onto his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Hurt like a bitch," he said with a grin. A nervous chuckle rippled through the group, unsure whether or not they could get away with laughing at his attempt to lighten the mood.

Sirius could see James at his side, not looking at him, but very much there. He turned away from Remus' watchful, knowing eyes.

He wasn't used to this, to _truths_. Truth was vulnerability, and Sirius Black didn't do either of those.

* * *

_Sirius groaned as he rolled from his position on his back to lie on his side, wincing as he pressed his ribs tenderly. Nothing broken, he huffed to himself._

_The dark surrounding him was impenetrable, and he shivered._

_The cellar._

_Shakily he stood, fearful of the pressing darkness that engulfed him, peering through the emptiness in search of something, _anything_, of comfort._

"_Hello?" he asked, trying to remember how he'd gotten here. _

_He remembered a fight. He could remember trying to leave, throwing curses figurative and perhaps literal ones, too, at his father. He remembered punching Regulus. Sirius grimaced at the last memory, the most painful by far. He looked down at his fist, which he could barely see in the lack of light, remembering how it had crashed against his little brother's jaw. He shuddered, crouching back on the ground._

"_Hello?" he asked again in spite of himself, his hands trembling as the dark seemed to invade his mind. He returned to his upright position and began walking, arms stretched outwards, searching for the wall. When he finally reached it he groped along the blank stretch of brick until he came to the ladder. He fumbled at the steps, and then began to clamber up, very conscious of the fact that if someone opened the trapdoor, they'd throw him back to the ground again with considerable force._

_When finally he reached the solid oak patch he scratched his fingers over the surface, desperately trying to find the handle, but his hands found only wood. The handle had disappeared._

"_Let me out!" he screamed as loudly as he could, slamming his fists against the door. "Let me out right now!"_

"_Quiet, Sirius," a voice drawled. It appeared his father was directly above him, no doubt on a chair placed on top of the door, Sirius sneered at the likely possibility. "And don't order me about. I'll let you out when you either shut up or learn your lesson. Preferably both."_

"_You can't keep me in here forever you know!" Sirius bellowed._

"_Oh yes I can, boy," Orion Black said in a bored voice. "You're my son, and by legal rights you don't even inherit until you're twenty one. I don't _have to_ do anything at all."_

_Sirius froze, his breaths sharp and painful in his chest._

"_Now, are you going to stay down there like a good little boy, or am I going to have to teach you another lesson?" Orion asked, and Sirius scrambled back down the ladder to the floor. The sudden memory of that curse hitting him was abruptlyl raw and fresh in his mind. He could still feel it burning into his bones. "Or maybe I'll wait until Bella comes over for a chat," Orion mused._

_He sounded quite delighted with this idea._

"_No!" Sirius growled. The last thing he needed now was to be humiliated, not only by his parents, but by his cousin as well._

"_Then you stay where you are."_

"_Are you planning on feeding me, may I ask?" Sirius asked in a mockingly polite voice, even adding a sickly sweet smile, despite knowing his father couldn't see it._

"_That depends," was all the reply he received._

_Sirius didn't speak again._

_He sat on the floor, arms folded, determined to prove to his father that he could take any punishment thrown at him. He figured he could survive…what, three days without anything? He nodded to himself. Yes, he could manage that. Regulus would manage to sneak him food by then at least. His younger brother was loyal to his parents, but Regulus wouldn't let his big brother starve._

_Still, even as idle hours began to pass by Sirius' mouth grew dry and he began to pant, licking his lips every now and then to moisten them. He glanced around the pitch black room, wondering if, by any chance, there was something he could drink._

_Wearily he stood, muscles aching from being locked in one position for so long, and began to search the cellar, finding only cobwebs and empty boxes, old portraits and tarnished silverware, until finally he found several large barrels. After some work, he managed to pull off the first lid, and the powerful smell of ale met his nostrils. He grinned. Well, if he couldn't have water…_

_What started as quenching his thirst turned to something more._

_He was stuck down here for who knew how long? He may as well enjoy himself, he reasoned with a lazy grin, drinking out of a goblet that he had found among the boxes of 'less worthy' items that had been left in the cellar due to their imperfect nature._

_This was the House of Black, after all, only the very best goblin made silverware would do._

_He continued to drink, his fears dispelling themselves as he drank and drank and drank, his happiness naturally of far greater importance than his health._

_It wasn't long before he lost track of time, and he didn't even notice as it became harder and harder to scoop the drink out of the barrel without falling into it._

_At first he was too high in his spirits to hear his name being called, and he continued to hum merrily to himself under his breath, waving his arms in the air to conduct an imaginary orchestra._

"_Sirius!" the voice hissed again, and Sirius stopped mid-hum, eyes turning in the direction he _thought_ the trapdoor was._

"_Yes, this is Voldemort's Receptionist, how can I help you?" He cackled at his own wit, falling back to lie down as he giggled to himself._

"_Get up here, Sirius!"_

_The sixteen year old stopped chuckling as he heard someone fiddling with the trapdoor, and a moment later light from a single wand flooded into the cellar. Sirius swivelled his head sideways to see Regulus looking terrified and holding two wands: his own and Sirius'. He beckoned to his older brother, telling him to hurry._

"_If you go now, you can escape before mum and dad get back. They've gone out."_

"_At this time?" Sirius asked bemusedly, his eyes shining with delight at the word _escape_._

"_Yeah, don't ask. It's Bella and Rodolphus. Now hurry up!" he sounded aggravated, but also relieved as Sirius began staggering towards the ladder, grinning lazily and humming under his breath._

"_Up you come, sweetie," a woman's voice said. Sirius nearly fell back down he ladder, but was grabbed in time by his cousin Andromeda, who smiled kindly. _

"_What are you doing here?" Sirius asked, feeling a little like he was meeting a ghost. It had been so long since 'Dromeda had been to the house…_

"_Well it's not like I've been invited to visit Bellatrix and Rodolphus' celebrations, is it? I've decided to be the good cousin I once promised I would be to you, Sirius." She helped Regulus heave the drunken boy out of the cellar and into the hallway. Regulus handed Sirius back his wand._

_Sirius patted his brother's shoulder affectionately. Regulus almost felt glad of Sirius' intoxicated state. He probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, and he was pretty sure that if Sirius was sober, he would probably have been doing something very different to patting him in a brotherly fashion._

"_You coming too, Reg?" Sirius asked._

"_No, I'm staying," Regulus snapped impatiently. "You know what to do?" he asked Andromeda, who waved an airy hand, dismissing her little cousin's worries._

"_Apparate him to outside Potter Mansion, hope he finds his way to the front door by himself, don't be seen by anyone, don't tell anyone…yadda-yadda-yadda." She almost yawned at how easy the task was, and didn't take kindly to the lecturing tone of her much younger cousin's voice. "Come on, you useless lump." _

_She pulled Sirius along to the front door and the boy didn't protest, instead waving happily to Regulus, who winced at the bruises on his brother's face, now illuminated by the dim streetlight outside that streamed in through the open door._

"_Bye!" Sirius shouted to the house, and his laughter was cut off as Andromeda Tonks apparated away from Grimmauld Place, leaving Regulus alone in the doorway, resolution in his expression and regret in his heart._

* * *

It was close to three o'clock in the morning and still Gryffindor common room showed no signs of emptying. While most of the younger years had made their way upstairs – encouraged by a few of the more responsible older students, mainly one Lily Evans and Wendy Dorrington – those of fifth year and above showed no desire to leave the party, which had returned to the traditional central dance space, with chairs all pushed to the side where a few people watched the dancers. Some fourth years remained, but they were few and far between.

In the centre of the dancers Lizzie could see two particularly drunken figures swirling around the room, endangering all those around them as they did what looked like a hand jive, contrasting quite oddly with the slow, romantic crooning of Fantasia Xylena coming from the wireless.

She couldn't wait to tell everyone how _Lily Evans_ had danced with _James Potter_. And so ridiculously, at that!

She caught Christian's eye and waved shyly. He nodded to her with a flirty smile and continued to talk to his friends, his eyes flitting back to her every now and again.

"Who you waving to?"

She didn't register the scowl on Sirius' face as he asked her, and answered him with a wide smile.

"Oh, just Christian."

"_Just Christian_?" Sirius asked, eyebrows raising in distaste. He placed his hand behind Lizzie's elbow and pushed her forwards. "Come on, let's dance."

Lizzie allowed herself to be pulled into the middle of the room, smiling happily as she began to dance with Sirius, whose drunken energy had started to drain as his drinks became slowly less frequent in number. They turned on the spot at a moderate pace, Sirius' hands resting behind the blonde's neck, while her hands rested comfortably above his hips.

"Why are you going out with Christian?" he asked her after a few minutes. The next song started playing, much livelier than the last, but still they turned slowly on the spot.

"Because he's nice," Lizzie replied, her pale green eyes returning to her boyfriend.

"Nice?" Sirius didn't sound convinced.

"Yes, Sirius, nice," Lizzie said shortly. "I know there's very little chance we're going to fall madly in love and get married and have children and grow old together," she said hotly. "But to be honest, I'm pretty alright with that at the moment. I don't need to find my soul mate at school, and I don't think I'm going to. I may as well enjoy myself for now."

Sirius stuttered for moment, trying to retort with something clever and witty, but fell surprisingly silent.

"Thank you," Lizzie said once he closed his mouth, and she leant over to rest her head on his shoulder, lethargy starting to creep into her limbs.

She could see out of the corner of her eye that Lily and James had stopped dancing, and were now partaking in an animated conversation, complete with wide eyed expressions and rapid hand gestures. She smiled. No, she didn't need to find love at school, but there, she knew, sat two people who clearly had, or at least would very soon.

She wondered vaguely whether the redhead would still feel the same in the morning, and chuckled under her breath at the thought.

"Tired, Lizzie?" Adrian Dunhouse, Christian's best friend, called over to her. There was a collective chuckle from the group of boys all clustered around Christian.

"Too much bed and not enough sleep," another snickered loudly and Lizzie frowned, standing upright. She could feel Sirius' hands clasping a little too tightly around her neck.

"Yeah, but with her string of bedmates it's no wonder!" A third boy jeered, and the laughs grew louder.

Lizzie's mouth opened in horror and she turned to Christian, surprised he hadn't backed her up yet. "Christian?" she stuttered, but the boy shrugged.

"Not my problem if you've made a reputation for yourself, Liz-Biz," he said in a slurred voice, as if ending his statement with her affectionate nickname to soften the blow. He moved to take another swig of his drink, but the bottle never reached his lips.

"You bastard!" Sirius yelled, and before Lizzie could grab him he'd leapt over to the sixth year, his fist finding Christian's face once, twice-

The boy was on the floor in seconds, and Sirius continued his attack, repeating similar expressions of disgust as loudly as he could.

"Sirius!" Lizzie yelled, but he didn't stop until she grabbed his arm. He stood over Christian, and Lizzie took his place. Refusing to shed a single tear, Lizzie lifted her foot and slammed it straight into the sixth year's groin. Christian doubled over in pain, groaning. "In case that isn't clear enough for you, we're finished."

Sirius looked around the common room, half of which were still oblivious to their encounter, while the others remained silent and wary, all regarding him with apprehension. He spotted James on the sofa, dazed expression confused, as if he was trying to work out whether or not he was needed, and what he was supposed to do.

"Come on Lizzie," Sirius said, wrapping a protective arm around the girl, who was shaking with embarrassment. "I think we were dancing, weren't we?"

"Yes," Lizzie replied with a glassy eyed smile. "We were."

"Then let's carry on, but first!" he pointed to the counter, where sat one last crate of Firewhiskey. "A drink. I think we both need one."

* * *

_Lizzie strolled aimlessly down the corridors of Hogwarts, very much intent upon getting lost. Six years of being educated in the castle made this difficult, of course, but she was determined to try nonetheless._

_She had decided after some deliberation that the place most likely to have her well and truly mislaid was the dungeons, given her lack of experience in the darker areas of the castle. Of course, this was also the place most likely to end in disaster, but she considered it worth the risk._

_She was perfectly at ease in the shadows of the dungeons, and by a stroke of luck was yet to meet a single Slytherin prowling in the gloom._

"_Elizabeth!"_

_She turned at the voice, pulled from her thoughtless reverie._

"_Lizzie!" _

_She narrowed her eyes, unable to see anything other than stone bricks, statues, and tapestries. She pursed her lips and continued on her slow meander._

"_Elizabeth Joan Harding, get your arse back over here _now_!"_

"_What do you want?" she snapped to the empty corridor behind her._

"_Help!" the voice replied. She took a step closer to a statue of a wizard holding a large serpent._

"_Black?" she asked bemusedly, and there was what sounded like a reluctant _yes_ from the muffled voice. She treaded lightly towards the statue, but it was only once she was barely a metre away that she could see the vague figure of Sirius Black, hanging suspended behind the statue, his expression mutinous. "What on earth are you doing there?"_

"_Thought it would be fun. You know, a little Marauder clubhouse," he snapped._

"_Where's your wand?" she asked condescendingly as she began pulling at the ropes holding his hands down. "Sirius, these aren't even magical ropes!" she snickered, ignoring his scowls._

"_Up there," he flicked his eyes up to the ceiling where, like himself, his wand was hanging in midair._

"_And you couldn't just accio it?" she asked, sounding unimpressed._

"_Apologies for my lack of wandless magic skills!" he grumbled, rubbing his newly freed wrists._

"_Why were you even here in the first place?" Lizzie asked as she summoned the boy's wand and handed it back to him. With nowhere else in particular to go the pair slid down the wall until they were sitting almost side by side._

"_Well I was _planning_ on talking to my brother," Sirius admitted grudgingly. "But Griffiths and Marsden had other ideas."_

"_And you were separated from your conjoined twin in the first place because…" she asked pointedly._

"_James and I are not conjoined twins!"_

"_And yet you know who I'm talking about," Lizzie said simply._

"_He's visiting his dad in St Mungo's," Sirius replied glumly, cupping his chin with his palms._

"_So the cowardly Slytherins decided to take advantage of James not being around?"_

"_You know, I really hate being a Gryffindor sometimes," was all Sirius could say to her. He scowled cryptically at the ground, Lizzie smiled delicately, knowingly._

"_Because you keep relying on James to back you up?"_

"_I guess…"_

_Sirius shuffled his feet uncomfortably, disliking the blonde girl's intense stare._

"_Before I came to Hogwarts I did perfectly well on my own!" he finally exploded, his voice ringing down the corridor, and he waved his arms frantically._

"_And now you're the all round team player!" Lizzie cheered with mock enthusiasm._

"_Yup," the boy said, popping the 'p' in a dark voice. "That guy has lulled me into a false sense of security."_

"_And you think that if you were a Slytherin you would be more independent?" _

"_Well the rest of my family are, even Andromeda! And she's not exactly the same as the rest of them, is she?" he looked over to see Lizzie still smiling. "What?" _

"_I just don't think you can blame everything on the all-round Gryffindor-Potter influence," she said in a falsely stern voice. "I think you are who you are."_

"_Really?" Sirius scoffed._

"_Hell yeah. I mean, of course if you'd been in Slytherin you'd be a totally different person compared to who you are because you're in Gryffindor…but Gryffindor hasn't _made_ you like this. It just…encourages a certain side of you. Even if you were in Slytherin, yes you'd probably be less of a Gryffindor, but you'd still be a _little_ bit Gryffindor. Just like you're still a little but Slytherin."_

_Lizzie rolled her eyes at the indistinct muttering that constituted as all the reply she was going to get._

"_I was nearly in Slytherin," she said after a moment._

"_You what?"_

"_Oh yeah, the Sorting Hat said I had a little Slytherin side to me that would do very well."_

"_What stopped it from putting you there then?" he asked, curiosity sparked at this revelation._

"_I was too 'ruled by my emotions', apparently," she muttered bitterly._

"_And you're _disappointed_?"_

"_Oh…no…I wouldn't…I love being a Gryffindor!" Lizzie insisted, shaking her head at Sirius' raised eyebrows. "It's just interesting. Sometimes I wonder, you know, how things would have been different, say, if we'd both been in Slytherin."_

"_We'd probably have been the King and Queen of Slytherin," Sirius said with a wink._

"_Literally?"_

"_Probably. Who else would there have been?"_

"_Oh, so it's just lack of better options, is it?" Lizzie snapped defensively, and she shifted as if considering getting up._

"_No," Sirius said loudly, grabbing her forearm. She stared at his hand clasped around her for a moment, then looked up into his insistent face._

"_Then what?"_

"_Oh, you know. I mean, it's not like I wouldn't go for you _now_, you idiot," he winked, but there was a flicker of something more behind his stormy eyes._

_Lizzie bit her lip, blushing. "Really?"_

"_Come on," Sirius said with an embarrassed snort of laughter. "I had the _hugest_ crush on you ever last year…and the year before…and the year before…"_

"_And it's taken you until sixth year to tell me this?"_

"_I would _never,_ under _any_ circumstances," Sirius said firmly. "Go out with you."_

"_Why?" Lizzie demanded, her eyes wide with hurt, but her expression softened as she saw the boy's cheeks grow pink._

"_I don't _date_ date, Lizzie. And I wouldn't do that to you."_

_Sirius didn't like the girl's perceptive smile._

"_Well for future reference, even if you asked I wouldn't say yes anyway."_

"_Well that's good, because I wouldn't ask."_

"_Good."_

"_Good."_

_The laugh they shared was almost genuine, and they leaned a little closer into one another's warmth._

"_When does James get back?"_

"_Tonight. His dad's getting let out at the end of the week but he wanted to see him before that."_

"_His dad's ok?"_

"_Oh yeah, he's fine."_

_The silence between them was stiff, uncompromising._

"_Common room?" Lizzie asked, standing and reaching down to help the boy up._

_Sirius eyed her warily for a moment, then took her hand and allowed her to pull him up. He swayed as his knees wobbled, leaning into her, and for the briefest of moments he could see the cluster of beauty spots usually hidden beneath the shadowing eyelashes of her left eye._

"_Let's go," he said firmly._

_They walked together, side by side. Understanding content and unspoken._

* * *

"James," Lily said in a matter of fact voice that did not quite fit with her dazed expression. She was stretched across the couch, her head resting on James Potter's lap, and seemed totally oblivious to the drunken hum of the room around them. "When you asked me to marry you-"

"Which time?" James asked with a giggle, and Lily slapped his leg playfully.

"Earlier tonight, silly!"

"You mean when you finally accepted?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah…when you asked me, were you being serious about ten children?"

She looked concerned, her brow puckering slightly as she fiddled with the empty bottle in her hands.

"No, that was just a joke," James reassured her with a firm pat on the head.

"Good," Lily sighed in relief. "Because I can only think of eight names that I like." At this both boy and girl began to laugh raucously, hastily making '_sshhh_' noises at one another to quieten themselves.

"What names _do_ you like then?" James asked after a few moments.

Lily smiled brightly.

"I like Delilah for a girl."

"Delilah?" James spluttered. "What is it with your family and flower names?" he asked in a perplexed voice.

"That's _dahlia,_ stupid!" Lily clouted James around the head, rolling her eyes at the boy's ignorance.

"Well I don't like it," James insisted stubbornly.

"Fine. How about Georgina?" Lily offered, and was again rejected by James, who pulled a disgusted face that earned himself another slap. "My neighbour's called Georgina! Okay, Clarice?"

James paused, considering the name.

"No."

"Harriet?"

"Yes!" James cried, punching the air in exultation. "I like it. What about boy names?"

"Jason."

"Really?" James asked, eyebrows raised disparagingly.

"I'll accept nothing else."

"Okay then," James patted Lily's head again, this time much more lightly. "Jason it is."

A comfortable silence followed between the two, James smiling happily at Juliette who was repeatedly – and using up a great deal of effort and concentration as she did so – shifting the mistletoe from one side of the room to other, causing it to chase Remus and India-Rose around in circles, while Lily hummed under her breath.

"And I want two cats."

"Two cats? What about dogs?" James demanded.

"No, I want cats!" Lily pouted, letting the bottle slip from her grasp and fall to the floor while she folded her arms obstinately.

"Called Quincetti and Donahue?" James asked brightly.

"Why on earth would my cats be called Quonaetty and Dollarhue?" Lily sounded horrified.

"_Quincetti_ and _Donahue_! You know, only the best chasers England have ever had!"

"I am not naming my cats after Quidditch players."

Her tone was final, and James' expression dropped.

"What _do_ you want to call them then?"

"Achilles and Hektor," Lily said proudly.

"What?!"

"Achilles and Hektor," Lily repeated simply. "You know, the Ancient Greek heroes? My dad's two favourite books are The Lord of the Rings and The Iliad. I know. Weird." James nodded as if he understood what the redhead was talking about, not wanting to appear foolish in front of his future wife. "He used to have a grey horse called Shadowfax as well."

"That's nice," James replied.

"So we can have cats?" Lily asked, and James, unable to deny the excited face before him, nodded.

"Of course we can have cats. We'll even get a horse as well if you like."

"No," Lily shook her head. "I don't like horses."

"But you just said-"

"My _dad_ likes horses! Keep up!"

James grinned, fighting to keep his eyes open as the urge to sleep grew and grew. He could see Lily looked exhausted, unable to keep her head up for too long to look around the room.

"I'm tired," she yawned, rubbing her eyes lazily.

"Me too."

"Bedtime?" Lily asked, rolling over and tumbling off the couch. She stood, only to stagger sideways and be caught by an equally disorientated James. They collapsed back onto the floor in a fit of giggles.

"Juliette!" James shouted across the room, "Sleep-time!"

"Okay!" Juliette shouted back, and began saying a long and dramatic farewell to a figure that looked a lot like Sirius, who was curled up in a corner beside a long-legged blonde girl, her head resting on his shoulder as she slept.

James took Lily's arm to steady her and together they traipsed towards the stairs that led to the boy's dormitories.

It took a long time to clamber laboriously up the stairs, and by the time they reached the seventh year dorm James was ready to collapse on the floor and never get up again. He glanced at his watch. It was possibly as late as five o'clock, but everything was starting to get too blurry to be sure.

"Night-night!" he called to the room, and knew no more as he staggered towards his bed, hoping his aim was good enough that he'd land on the mattress, not a thought for Lily's hand, which was still firmly in his grip .


	11. Waking Up

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**10. Waking up**

_**Of sonorous charms, soothing solution, and seagulls.**_

When Lily Evans awoke she was instantly aware of three things:

One: her head felt close to imploding;

Two: her stomach was doing back flips;

Three: she was lying almost directly on top of someone.

Upon reaching the third conclusion she suppressed a groan of horror. There was only one person she could possibly have fallen asleep with, given last night's events…at least, given what she remembered of them.

Her hand, which was tightly encased in another much larger hand, was moist with sweat. She opened her eyes slowly, biting her lower lip as she concentrated hard on making as little noise as possible. Doing her best not to jostle the young man beneath her, she raised her head slowly, peeling her damp hair from her face with her free hand and leaning back, away from James Potter's chest. Glancing down at her legs, she almost cried out in frustration.

With a deep breath to prepare herself Lily slowly untangled her legs from James'.

Once free, she turned her attention to the only part of her body still attached to the boy – her hand.

She bit her tongue as she pulled back James' fingers one by one, praying all the while that he wouldn't wake up until she was safely out of the dormitory. The only thing that stopped her from crying with humiliation was that at least she was still fully dressed.

No matter what had been said or done the night before, at least she was still dressed in her own clothes.

Her hand finally free, the redhead straightened up and glanced around the room, eyes widening at the sight before her. Both Peter and Sirius' beds were empty, most likely they'd fallen asleep in the common room.

Remus' bed, on the other hand, was occupied not only by himself, but by a girl too. Lily grinned at India-Rose, who was curled under one of Remus' arms. By the looks of things – much to Lily's relief, as she didn't know if she could handle feeling any more embarrassed than she already was – they were still dressed as well, the duvet only covering their legs up to their knees.

She paused to watch fondly as they slept soundly, but a grunt from James brought her back to reality.

She had to leave. Quickly.

Without another thought she turned and fled from the room, ignoring her churning stomach and pounding head, which proceeded to throb worse than ever as she jogged speedily down the steps towards the common room.

When finally she reached the bottom of the stairs it was to be confronted by the largest mess she had ever had the misfortune to witness. She wondered vaguely whether Voldemort had heard about their party and joined them at some point.

She was distracted from her inspection, however, when the stairs to the girl's dormitories melted into a slide and down tumbled…Sirius Black.

She froze, unable to jump out of the way before he caught sight of her stood staring, having clearly just vacated the boy's dorms. A mutually mortified blush stained both their faces, expressions of terror holding them frozen to the spot for a moment, before they coughed ashamedly. Lily stepped fully into the common room; Sirius stood shakily.

"Let's not speak about this," Lily said, eyes cast to the ground, forcing her thoughts away from the horrifying realisation that somehow, Sirius had managed to get himself up to the girls' dorms.

"Fine by me," Sirius replied, feeling acutely aware that he was wearing nothing more than his underwear and a blanket.

"Good morning," Lily said, and Sirius repeated her words, joining her in surveying the room at large.

Peter had indeed fallen asleep downstairs, but he wasn't alone. Juliette was slumped over an armchair, and several sixth years – even a few fifth years! – could be spotted among the rubble that still remained from the party, so deeply asleep that Lily had to fight an urge to check their breathing.

"Good night?" Sirius asked in a flirty voice, and Lily wondered how on earth he could conjure the energy to waggle his eyebrows so flamboyantly.

"Yes," she replied stiffly. "You?"

Sirius nodded, and they fell back into silence.

"We really need to clean this up," Lily groaned after a minute or so, not anticipating the task with any degree of enthusiasm while so busy concentrating on not throwing up.

"Wait here," Sirius ordered her, and he patted her shoulder as he slipped past her, heading up to his dormitory. Lily waited, feeling no inclination to disobey. Standing still and doing nothing sounded perfectly good to her…almost as good as lying down and doing nothing.

She considered waking Juliette up, but was again distracted by Sirius crashing down the stairs, thankfully now fully dressed, his expression suddenly bright and his smile wide.

"Sirius?" she asked warily, and the boy held out a small vial of bright green liquid.

"A party-goer's best friend," he indicated the potion, thrusting it into the girl's hand and nodding encouragingly. The lid popped off easily, and Lily brought the rim to her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched up her nose as she threw down the drink, swallowing it with difficulty.

The moment it had slipped down her protesting throat she heaved, hands on her knees, retching.

"That is disgusting," she growled.

"Well yeah," Sirius agreed, "But it works, huh?"

Lily stood upright again, and was surprised to feel the dizziness leaving her head and her stomach settling down. A smile began to spread across her lips.

"It does," she admitted in wonder, and Sirius grinned conspiratorially.

"Don't tell James I gave it to you though," he begged her under his breath. "That was the last one."

Lily's mouth fell open into a perfect 'o', but Sirius had already stepped fully into the room. Raising his wand, he directed the tip to his throat.

Lily had distinctly heard the word _Sonorus _before she realised what he was going to do, and had no power to stop him. She could only press her hands over her own ears in time.

"_RISE AND SHINE, PEOPLE OF THE RED AND GOLD HOUSE_!"

His voice boomed through the room, most likely reaching right the way up to the seventh year dorms. Lily clamped her hands tighter over her ears, the vibrations of Sirius' magically magnified voice shuddering through the floor beneath her feet, making her entire body tremble.

The room was filled with the shrieks of those sleeping in the common room, and Lily was unable to stop herself from bursting into giggles as Juliette quite literally leapt from her seat, looking terrified, only to stagger sideways and collapse over the table by her side.

"_GOOOOOOOOOD MORNING MISS SWINDON_!" Sirius continued, waving at Juliette enthusiastically.

The girl looked a great deal less than amused. Quickly Sirius removed the charm, but he was too late to dodge Juliette's spell, which was aimed with surprising accuracy. In a flash he was beating away an attack of a flock of seagulls, all attempting to reach his face with their feet and beaks, squealing in fright as he flapped his arms around desperately.

Juliette's eyes narrowed victoriously, a smile curling her lips a little as she reached up to massage her head gently. She leaned into the palm of her hand and Lily waltzed over to her side, slipping an arm around her friend's waist to support her. The hum of groans and grumbles was starting to fill the air, the only other sound being the squawks of a deeply harassed Sirius Black and his feathered attackers.

"How you feeling?" Lily asked in as kind a tone as possible, receiving only a whining, wordless noise from the dark haired girl. "I see," Lily continued. "Well, in that case, I think we need to get you up to the dorm." Ignoring Juliette's repeated objections Lily pulled her up towards the dorm, heaving with all her might until finally they were both through the door to their dormitory.

A sound of shrieking met their ears and Lily watched as an alarmed Lizzie, who had appeared to have been kneeling on her bed, tumbled backwards onto the floor out of sight, as if attempting to hide from view. Leaving Juliette to slump on the nearest bed, Lily leapt across the room to see if her friend was injured.

Lizzie was hunched in a ball on the floor, her face covered by a mass of blonde knots and curls, her arms around her head as if to shield herself from being spotted.

"Liz?" Lily asked, pulling at one of Lizzie's locked arms, but the blonde wouldn't be moved.

"Don't you dare blame me, I never wanted this party!" she squealed, hands placed on either side of her aching head to soften the noise of Juliette loudly scrounging around he dorm to pack the last of her trunk, muttering mutinously as she did so.

Lily smiled, moving over to her own space to collect her belongings.

"If you say so, Lizzie. If you say so."

* * *

"Good morning!"

Remus blearily opened his eyes, peering at the hazy figure by his side whose smile widened at his sleepy expression.

"Since when do you get up before me on a morning?"

"Since you have a hangover and I don't," India-Rose said brightly, leaning over to claim a brief kiss from the bewildered boy.

Remus spluttered wildly.

"And since when do you kiss me?" he demanded, brows knitting together and he wondered if it was possible for his _lips _to blush, too.

"Since we confessed our undying love for one another last night," the girl said in a low, seductive voice.

"_What_?"

"I'm only kidding," India-Rose assured him, running her hand through his hair and thinking how very much in need of a haircut her boyfriend was. "But we are officially…you know…_together_. I'm flattered you remember it so vividly," she added sarcastically, and Remus chuckled, pulling her nearer to him and holding her closely.

"Of course I remember," he said slowly, biting his lip and concentrating very hard on exactly what had happened the night before.

"No, you don't," India-Rose stated firmly with a smirk. "I can tell. But don't worry, I'm not going to be counting our _one day, one week, one fortnight_ anniversaries, so it's ok." She searched the boy's face with warm, smiling eyes, wondering why he could possibly still look worried. "What's wrong?"

If possible, Remus' blush deepened. "Did we…errm…you know…did we…?" He made a half hearted gesture that he soon ceased as the girl burst into hysterical laughter.

"Oh Merlin, no!" she cried, shaking her head at him. "What kind of girl do you take me for, Remus John Lupin? I don't care how long I've known you, _Ree-Ree_. We've only been going out for…oh, I don't know, eight hours now?"

Remus sighed, utterly relieved, but his expression turned abruptly serious.

"You will not, under any circumstances, tell any of the Marauders I asked you that," he ordered. "Especially not Padfoot."

"Don't worry," India-Rose promised, her tongue protruding from between her teeth as she grinned. "I promise. You're humiliation will be left only for my own personal amusement."

A comfortable silence fell between the pair, and India-Rose snuggled back down under the covers, wrapping her arms around Remus' waist and laying her head on his chest. Remus, marvelling at how very wonderful it felt to think of India-Rose lying by his side, glanced around the dormitory, suddenly aware of James lying on his bed, half drooping off the edge so that he seemed in great danger of falling to the floor.

Other than that they were totally alone.

"Is everyone else up?" he asked warily.

"Well I think one of us had the presence of mind to put a silencing charm around us last night, because we haven't woken James up yet…then again, he _did_ manage to sleep through Sirius' charming wake up call. You too, I should point out. It's actually quite incredible."

"What wake up call?" Remus asked, already listing reprimands to hand out to Padfoot at the first opportunity.

"Highly unoriginal and the exact opposite of amusing," India-Rose replied darkly. "Sonorous charm, it sounded like."

"Oh, I see." Remus didn't really expect anything better of Sirius, in all honesty.

Now that he was starting to wake up properly, Remus could hear the vague hum of bustling students outside the door, all no doubt rushing to be ready for the Hogwarts Express, which was to take the majority of Hogwarts' students back to London at ten o'clock sharp.

"Do you think we should get up?" he asked. India-Rose groaned. "Come on, Indy," he said playfully. "Up you get." He shifted so he could reach the girl's underarms and began to heave, but immediately India-Rose shrieked and clamped her arms down. Remus smirked. "Get up, or I'll do it again."

India-Rose shook her head stubbornly, her eyes full of playful fear.

"Fine," Remus said, darkly teasing, and he began to tickle her mercilessly, not stopping even as she began to beat him around the head with flailing arms. Limbs entwined, they both finally tumbled out of the bed, and, it seemed, out of range of their silencing charm too. Within moments James, who had until that point looked to be attempting an imitation of death itself, jerked awake, shocked awake by the girl's ear-splitting screech.

"What the…" James stared confusedly at the pair now frozen to the spot on the floor, India-Rose's legs wrapped around Remus' waist, his hands holding her arms back out of the way, both breathless and flushed with excitement. James raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Do you mind?" he asked. "I'd appreciate it if I wasn't given a front seat view of your…romping?" he waggled his eyebrows, causing both boy and girl to blush furiously and scramble up to a standing position.

"I'm off to pack my things," India-Rose said defiantly, trying to ignore James' mocking leer, and kissing the corner of Remus' mouth, which was shut tightly as he attempted to keep from telling James to wipe that damn smirk off his face, she left without another word, dancing lightly out of the door and down the stairs.

"You were right, Moony," James said with a grin. "You really _aren't_ a normal teenager. I mean, come on, right in front of me? Really? Not even Sirius has dared."

"Oh shut up," Remus snapped, trying to hide his smile of delight.

"Did no-one think to wake me up?" James asked, stretching as he yawned widely.

"Nice, Prongs. I think I saw your tonsils that time," Remus drawled. "And Padfoot woke pretty much the whole house, apparently, but we both slept right through it. I would have woken you up once India-Rose had gone."

"So," James pounced immediately upon the mention of India-Rose, leaning over conspiratorially and grinning. "Did you…?" he made a crude gesture that he had learnt from Sirius in their third year, and Remus scowled disapprovingly.

"No, we did not," he said firmly, hoping his blush wasn't returning at the memory of asking India-Rose the same thing not very long ago.

"Ahh well, we'll just have to have another big party and give you a chance." James had the cheek to look disappointed for Remus, who rolled his eyes.

"You know, some people actually date another person because they want a relationship, Prongs. Not just because you're interested in what's underneath their robes."

James laughed abrasively. "I know that!" he insisted. "For instance-"

"If you say Lily, I swear, I'm going to pour woodworm essence all over your broomstick," Remus warned. James' eyes widened in horror.

"How's your head?" he asked, changing the subject quickly and earning himself a laugh from his friend, who had turned his attention to his trunk and was beginning to pack what little of his that was still strewn around the room.

"It's manageable. You?"

"Killing me," James growled, closing his eyes and pressing his cold fingers against his lids, sighing at the small relief the cool of his hands could manage. "Where's Padfoot's trunk? He's got the last of the Soothing Solution." Staggering out of bed James fumbled with the latch on his friend's trunk and began rooting around, looking for the potion.

"Well I'm going now, before the rush really starts in the corridors," Remus said, pulling his trunk along behind him as he plodded out of the dormitory.

"Yeah…see you in a bit…bye…" James mumbled, distracted. His breathing deepened with frustration, if he didn't know better, he'd have thought Sirius hadn't left him any…

* * *

"Padfoot, I swear by my broomstick if there's no potion left for me I'm going to tear you apart. _Limb from limb_!"

Sirius stood in the doorway, finally free from Juliette's seagull attack though sporting several impressive scratches on his arms, watching James stagger – though it appeared he was attempting to _storm_ – around, rooting through both their trunks. He needed to get to his things, but he wasn't enough of a martyr to come within reaching distance of a hung-over James Potter. He glanced briefly around the room to see they were the only ones left.

Remus and Peter had both left, all trace of their presence vanished from their immaculate bed spaces.

"What about if I told you I gave the last one to Lily-Flower?" Sirius asked, and James jumped violently. Clearly he'd been under the impression he was shouting at thin air.

"I'd know you were lying, because you're a selfish git who doesn't do anything nice for anyone ever in the history of the world full stop."

"Wow, you're even saying your punctuation. You must be annoyed," Sirius smirked, skipping his way lightly past his best friend to collect his neatly packed trunk.

"And since when do you pack?" James demanded, staring at Sirius' carefully collected items as the lid was sealed shut through bleary eyes.

"Since I had hangover potion and you didn't, meaning I am fully alert, organised and ready to start the day!"

James quirked an eyebrow at Sirius' bright expression. "Whatever."

Returning to his own things James chucked the last of his books on top of his messy clothes and forced the lid shut.

"Ready as you are," James said mockingly, extending an arm to allow Sirius to go first.

"Why thank you!" Sirius replied, stepping forward lightly and dancing happily out of the room, only to collapse down the stairs when James' foot connected sharply with his backside.

"O-oo-ow!" he cried at James, who sidled past him from where he sat on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

The common room had livened up somewhat. A band of clean freaks (no doubt led by Lily Evans, Sirius thought to himself) had taken it upon themselves to tidy up most of their mess. It was almost once again distinguishable as the same common room they had been using for the past seven years.

"Come on, mucker," James smacked the back of Sirius' head encouragingly. "Time to get breakfast, then it's home." He spoke the last word with a sort of praising relief, as if nothing before had ever sounded so appealing in his life.

"Err, James!" Sirius cried.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't we forgetting something?"

James froze for a moment, and then groaned.

"Yes, yes. We'll go talk to Professor McGonagall as well."

Together they made their way quietly out of the common room, lest they be dragged into the cleaning party by the Head Girl, regretting every step they took that brought them nearer to the Great Hall.

"You're the one telling my parents we're expelled though."

* * *

The two boys walked slowly towards the Entrance Hall, shuffling their reluctant feet down the staircase and holding their breaths. James' eyes widened to the size of galleons, and Sirius frowned at him.

"What?" he asked at his friend's horrified expression.

"Look!" James nodded towards the entrance to the Great Hall, where stood two men and a woman.

The woman was a stern Professor McGonagall, the older man was Professor Dumbledore, his expression grave and concerned. The second man was fairly old too, but his frame was lean, as if used to a great deal of physical activity. His black hair was streaked with grey, and it had an untameable look to it, sticking up in several directions. He was frowning and nodding slowly at Dumbledore, one finger pressed to his lips while the other arm remained firmly in place behind his back.

"No way," Sirius whispered.

"Oh jeez, Padfoot," James mumbled. "They know already. They _know_!" He had grabbed Sirius by the elbow and was shaking him violently. "Oh shit, look at dad's face…they've told him! Oh no, he looks angry. Shit, he's going to kill me Sirius!"

"James, Sirius!"

The three adults had spotted the lurking boys, and Sebastian Potter was beckoning them forwards, his expression still set in a frown. Together, with the air of two criminals walking towards their execution, James and Sirius sidled towards the Great Hall entrance.

"Hi dad…how you doing?"

"Hello Mr Potter…how are things going?"

Though confused as to why Sirius would call him _Mr Potter_, Sebastian refrained from asking why the boys looked as if they expected to be beaten around the head several times.

"I'm afraid it's not good, boys," Sebastian said quietly. "Thank you for your time, Albus, Minerva."

"Sebastian," both Professors nodded, and sparing only a glance at the boys they returned to the Great Hall.

"Sebastian!" James and Sirius flinched, turning to see another figure walking towards them, his face raw and red from the cold outside, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to clap the feeling back into them.

"Anything, Rob?"

"Nothing," the man replied, and he smiled sadly at James, who was looking bewildered by Rob's presence.

"What's going on?" James asked innocently, and he could barely stop himself from elbowing Sirius, who made a half concealed noise of protest at his question.

"It seems some people were sneaking around Hogsmeade last night," Rob said.

"Oh?" Sirius asked despite himself.

"I'd best go see how Charlotte's getting on," Sebastian interrupted. "See you later boys, Rob," he clapped them each on the back as he passed, and Rob shrugged.

"You mean like…Death Eaters?" James asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.

"No, that's the thing," Rob replied, shaking his head in wonder. "It seems a group of hysteria stirring hooligans have taken to breaking into the wizarding villages and purposefully leaving traces of magic behind…Law Enforcement have to assume it's Death Eaters, so we spend all our energy trying to find out what curses they've left in wait, only to break through the charms and find they're not curses, they're petty, harmless jinxes." He spat his last sentence disgustedly. "We reckon they're Death Eater sympathisers," he continued. "You know, too scared to actually _be_ one of them, but supporting them nonetheless…This is all strictly confidential of course," he warned the two teens sternly.

"Yes sir," they replied in unison.

"So everything's ok?" Sirius asked, unable to keep from sounding utterly relieved.

"Well, I wouldn't say ok," Rob replied. "But if by 'ok' you mean no fatalities then yes, everything's perfectly ok."

"Good, and Mr Honeyduke-guy is alright?"

"Yes, yes, he's…how did you know it was Honeydukes?" Rob asked, looking bemused. There was a brief pause as Sirius internally prepared himself to be brutally murdered by Robert, then Sebastian Potter, then Albus Dumbledore, and then a fourth time by Jacinta Potter, before James spoke quickly.

"Well, it's one of the most popular places for students in Hogsmeade, other than The Three Broomsticks…if you're going to mess with a shop, you'll mess with one that loads of kids are going to. Causes more panic, doesn't it?"

Rob grinned, looking sceptical. "Huh. Smart kid," he commented lightly, ruffling James' hair fondly. "It'll be a crime against magic if you don't follow in your dad's footsteps, James."

James sighed internally, and Sirius held back a loud barking laugh that threatened to follow at Rob's words.

"Yeah," James exhaled loudly. "You coming to ours for dinner?" he asked, eager to change the subject before Rob noticed the blush in his cheeks.

"Course," Rob chuckled. "Hate to break a good tradition. Celise is coming too.,of course. She's been looking forward to seeing you both again," he clapped Sirius on the shoulder as he tried his best not to smirk, well aware that his daughter, now in her sixth year at Beauxbatons, considered herself madly in love with James' best friend.

Shooting a grinning James an annoyed glance, Sirius nodded mutely, dreading the evening already.

"See you soon then," James said, and Rob sighed.

"Yep, in a while. I'd best go help your dad. Until tonight, boys."

James and Sirius watched as the man walked away, silent until he had exited out of the main doors, and presently erupted in fits of laughter.

"I actually thought I'd dropped us in it," Sirius crowed amusedly.

"So did I!" James admitted, "What a relief! Well, not exactly…bad news for the Aurors I suppose, but good for us at least."

"Never again," Sirius insisted firmly. "Never. Again. That was too close."

James simply raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. "Sure thing, Padfoot."


	12. Aftermath Part I

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**11. Aftermath (Part I)**

_**Of trust, house elves, and mince pies.**_

The train was packed.

It seemed the majority of Hogwarts' students had decided to vacate the castle for the holiday, leaving only a handful spending Christmas together instead of with their families. The nine Gryffindor seventh years soon settled into a compartment without much of a fuss – some still too hungover to argue, and the others simply too scared of the rest to say anything more than a ghost's breath.

The compartment was made up entirely of glares, avoidances, and conspiratorial smirks.

Sirius, refusing to meet the eye of most of the group, kept his eyes on his knees.

James alternated between glaring at Sirius, and glaring at India-Rose and Remus, who were cuddled together in a corner, oblivious to all else. His eyes returned to stubbornly to the floor, however, when he almost caught Lily's eye.

Lily also felt no inclination to try and catch James' gaze, and was blushing under Juliette's scrutinising stare, whose curious attention was directed at the redhead, while her hostile attentions were still being sent in Sirius' direction.

Lizzie sat twiddling her thumbs, finding a chip in her nail varnish particularly fascinating. Peter kept shooting her suspicious glances, and upon meeting Wendy's eye, she nodded, and they both held back grins, turning to look out of the window instead.

"Oh, it'll be good to get off this train. I think I might go straight to bed when I get in. James-"

Juliette stopped speaking at James' frantic expression, shaking his head briefly as his eyes flitted to Sirius, who was still looking at his lap, but glanced up when the girl stopped speaking abruptly.

"James, what are you doing over the holidays?" Juliette asked, changing tack at top speed.

"Oh, don't really know yet. Remus, you're visiting at some point, aren't you?" he asked, interrupting a secretive giggle from India-Rose, to whom the sandy haired boy was whispering something. "Oi, lover-boy!" James shouted. "You're coming to ours over Christmas, aren't you?"

"Not over _Christmas_, James. But during the holidays, yes, I am, visiting" Remus said quietly. "If that's still ok with you."

"That's perfect," James said forcefully, and it was clear to Juliette by his expression, that he wasn't looking forward to spending an extended period of time shut up in a house with only his parents to keep him safe from Explosions a la Swindon and Black.

"Anyone else got any plans?" Juliette asked, changing the subject once more to avoid James leaping across the compartment and throttling her in frustration.

"I do!" Lizzie looked up from her thumbs as she spoke, her face lighting up with excitement. "My mum and dad are taking me to Australia. Australia! Christmas in the heat!"

"Wow, that's amazing!" James leapt right into the conversation, asking her anything and everything about wizarding Australia. Lizzie smiled brightly as she answered each question with enthusiasm, not once looking at Sirius, whose barely controlled sceptical expression mirrored her every fear.

Australia?

* * *

James was paranoid.

As eager as he was to get home, he dreaded every second that brought him closer to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, bringing him closer to telling Sirius they wouldn't be celebrating the Padfoot and Prongs Christmas that they had enjoyed the year before…

And it didn't help that Juliette's eyebrows were in danger of being lost into her hairline with her expectant expression every few minutes.

"I can see London!" India-Rose cried loudly, her face pressed against the window as she attempted peer around the corners of the train.

This was it, James thought. He was just going to have to suck it up and tell him.

"Sirius, I think-" he stopped. Sirius looked up at him questioningly. James turned to Juliette, who smiled brightly.

"I'm staying with you over Christmas, how great is that?" she asked, a broad grin on her face. Sirius stared at her for a moment, eyes boring unseeingly into her, and then he too smiled widely.

"Wow, awesome!" he cried. "That's so cool!"

James stared at the pair, wondering how he could have failed to notice these two people were clearly not his friends, obviously they were some form of alien replicant, like the ones Wendy had told him about in her sci-fi books.

"You're joking, right?"

"No!" the pair cried as they leapt up, hugging one another tightly and squealing together.

"We're going to have so much fun!" Sirius looked utterly thrilled. James narrowed his eyes, and then glared at Juliette.

"You already told him!" he shouted, looking betrayed. They smiled fondly, reached over to ruffle his unkempt hair in unison. The friendly façade dropping, they removed their arms from around one another as quickly as possible and sat back down as far away from each other as possible.

"How could you spoil our Padfoot and Prongs Christmas?" Sirius asked, pouting, but James merely scowled.

"You know, you'll be sorry the day you two gang up on me and I finally decide I've had enough of you," James growled playfully. There was a brief silence, soon followed by a series of badly concealed sniggers, amused glances and disbelieving expressions. "What?" he demanded.

"James, we could start working for freaking _Voldemort_ and you'd still forgive us," Juliette chuckled. James frowned at her.

"No I wouldn't. Not really."

"Oh James, please?" Remus asked, his expression sympathetic, but no more believing than the others'.

"Are you calling me a pushover?" James asked.

"Yes, Prongs, we are," Sirius said with a grin. "Don't worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has to have a weakness."

"Oh, and my weakness is you lot, is it?" James turned to the window, away from the teasing eyes of his friends.

"Pretty much," Lizzie shrugged.

"Hey, there are plenty worse things you could have for weaknesses," Wendy pointed out.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Juliette said firmly. "You could be a useless prick with no sense of self-preservation, no regard for society, and no respect for others' authority."

"He's that too, fool," Sirius sneered. "But I appreciate the compliment. And at least he's not a conniving cow who doesn't trusts _anyone_, is selfish, and has no respect for others' privacy."

"And _you're_ that too, Black," Juliette replied sweetly.

"Okay, okay, cool down people!" Remus and Lily said in authoritative voices. They hadn't yet resorted to shouting, but the tension was beginning to ripple through the air between Sirius and Juliette in waves of animosity.

James' brow puckered as he realised exactly what he had let himself in for by agreeing to two weeks alone with this pair.

"Guys, we're there," Peter piped up. He'd spent a great deal of the journey with his eyes out of the window, silent and unmoving, and they turned to him, surprised, having almost forgotten he was there at all.

"Best get ready then," Lily stretched as she stood, glancing down at the floor. She looked pained by the mess of sweet wrappers that were littered around their feet, but reluctant to do anything much about it.

"It'll be good to get home," Lizzie said quietly to ease some of the anxiety, and there was a general consensus of forced agreement. Slowly all nine Gryffindors began dragging their trunks out of the compartment and towards the nearest open door.

Too tired, they didn't speak again until they were all safely on the platform.

"Guess this is goodbye for now then," India-Rose said, glancing up and down the platform, not quite daring to hope that someone would be there waiting for her, which turned out to be a good thing because as expected, there was no-one. "Try not to kill one another," she pleaded to Sirius and Juliette, patting the boy's shoulder and hugging the girl tightly. "Good luck, James. Enjoy Australia, Lizzie. Have a nice Christmas Wendy, Lily, Peter…" she glanced at Remus, who smiled.

"I'll come with you," he said softly. "See you at some point?" he asked his fellow Marauders, and frowned at the three identical looks of horror that stared at him as he made to walk away. "What?"

"Just because you have a pair of lips to glue yourself to, that doesn't mean we can't still get a hug, does it?" Sirius asked in a hurt voice.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Why do I bother?" he asked, jogging over to hug each of them in turn. "Bye then," he waved at the girls, all of whom waved back.

"My parents will be waiting," Lily said, looking anxious. "I'd best go see them." After a brief farewell from the redhead, which included several awkward glances at James before she finally hugged him too, Peter also sighed.

"I'm off," he said, trying not to sound too dejected.

"Don't worry mate," James clapped him on the back. "You're coming to mine, aren't you?"

"Soon as possible," Peter nodded with a grin.

Together the rest of the group made their way out of the platform and back into the muggle world, where they were greeted almost instantly by even more clustered families waiting for students to leave the platform.

"_Wendy_!" a voice cried, and the black haired girl swivelled around to see a young man, several years older than herself, waving frantically at her.

"Josh!" she yelled back enthusiastically. "See you guys," she said, grabbing her trunk and hurrying over to her brother.

"Bye then," Peter finally waved as he walked away towards an austere looking woman stood waiting close to the gateway.

"Well, I'm off," Lizzie said with a nervous smile. "Have fun, you three," she winked at them, laughing when Juliette grabbed her in a ferocious hug.

"Don't leave me with them!" the darker haired girl shrieked dramatically.

"You'll be fine," Lizzie ruffled Juliette's curls fondly. She embraced James warmly, wishing him good luck. "Bye, Sirius," the blonde nodded as she spoke. James and Juliette watched, frowning suspiciously, as Sirius hugged the girl, and looked almost reluctant to let her go. But the moment passed, and soon the tall girl with sunshine hair was walking away with a purposeful stride.

"And then there were three," Sirius said, oblivious to James and Juliette's confusion until he glanced over at the pair. "What?"

"Excuse me?" Juliette asked.

"Look, I know we've finally got India and Moony together-" James said.

"But does this mean we now have to start making another round of bets?" Juliette finished, one eyebrow raised.

Sirius looked from the boy to the girl, then back over at the blonde, who was just disappearing from sight, before pulling a horrified expression. "No!" he cried. "Nu-uh – no way – not in a million years – never ever – no."

"That was…convincing," James said with a grin. "Come on, let's get home."

Together the trio walked down the platform amidst the cheery, Christmas spirit farewells and greetings of other students, Juliette smirking, Sirius blushing, and James laughing.

* * *

The muggle street was quiet and calm, a light spattering of snow dusting the ground. Soon, however, there was a _pop_ and a young woman appeared as if out of nowhere.

India-Rose walked reluctantly down the street, the house with dying ivy creeping up its face getting closer and closer with every unwilling step. She was starting to wish she'd accepted Remus' offer when he suggested he accompany her all the way to the house, or even that she join him at his house for a while. Anything just to put off the homecoming a bit longer.

The garden hadn't changed much since September when she left, only that the blushing geraniums had been replaced with snowdrops, and the tree, normally crowned with cherry blossoms, was standing bare and cold. The gate creaked as she opened it and, the same as ever, in eight strides she had reached the front door, which she knocked on.

When no-one answered, she pulled on the doorknob, and was surprised to see it had been left unlocked.

"Hello?" she said, but there wasn't a sound within the house. The back of her neck prickled, and she licked her lips, refusing to acknowledge the lump in her throat, or the way her chest rose and fell quicker with every breath. "Dad?"

Leaving her trunk at the front door next to the neat shoe rack she walked down the hall, eyes all the time upon the closed door that led to the kitchen. She grasped the doorknob, held her breath, and swung open the door, prepared for what she thought was anything.

Her father was sitting at one end of the table facing another man; they were positioned such that she could see the sternness of her father's gaze, but could only see the back of the stranger's head.

Then the intruder turned to look at her, and she felt her stomach clench, her heart beating faster than ever.

"Brogan!" she shrieked, and the man had barely stood before she had thrown herself at him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her arms locked around his neck, his around her waist.

"To see you," he mumbled into her shoulder, and she could feel herself trembling as he shook with sobs of relief.

"I've missed you," she said quietly, and over her brother's shoulder she saw her father staring at his children, expression unreadable.

"Me too."

"Where the fuck have you been?" she snapped abruptly, stepping back and pushing his shoulders hard with the heels of the hands.

"I've-"

"No!" India-Rose shouted. "Don't make excuses! I wrote to you, and you weren't answering. I thought you were dead!" she bellowed. She was shaking too, her eyes glazed with tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Teeth worrying her lower lip, her eyes found those of her father's.

Cillian Norrell nodded, eyes unyielding and mouth set, but there was something reassuring in that nod. Carefully this time, as if the man before her was made of naught but glass, she embraced her brother again.

"Sirius won't be using your flat," she said, "You can probably go back there."

Brogan nodded. "You want to come with me?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go," Brogan whispered. He took her hand and led her decisively out of the door, back to the hall where her trunk laid waiting.

She paused at the kitchen door, turning only to wave at her father, the man who hated magic, had made her feel like a guest in her own home, had thrown her brother out. The father whom she was leaving alone at Christmas. He nodded again in goodbye.

They hadn't even said hello yet.

As the front door closed shut behind the girl and the man, a tear slipped down Cillian Norrell's cheek.

* * *

"Dad?" Remus called as he entered the house.

"Remus!" John Lupin raced down the stairs and wrapped his arms around his son. "How are you?" A fond hand brushed the hair from the teen's eyes and Remus' father peered into his face, no doubt trying to gauge whether or not he could trust his son's verdict of _I'm great, dad_. "Are you sure?" he asked, and Remus batted the older man's hands way playfully.

"I'm fine, dad. Stop it. The full moon isn't for another week. Chill, will you?"

Grudgingly, John stepped back.

"Charlotte's coming for dinner tonight," he said as he picked up his son's trunk and began carrying it upstairs.

"Who?"

"Charlotte!"

"Saying it louder isn't going to make me remember her, dad," Remus said dryly.

"You know, the woman I told you about in my last letter?"

"The muggle woman?"

"Yes!" Remus smiled at how genuinely excited his father sounded. He was happy; it had been a while since his father had shown an interest in _anyone_. "She's a social worker."

"Cool," Remus said. "When's she coming?"

"About six o'clock, so we've got plenty of time to catch up first," John said brightly. "Cup of coffee?"

"Love one," Remus said with a sigh, and the father and son, made their way into the kitchen together, nudging and pushing one another as they made up for lost time apart.

* * *

"We're just saying we hope you don't mind spending some time with only your boring old parents for a while, Lily!" Michelle Evans said softly. Lily sat in the back seat of the car, glaring at her parents.

"No, what you're saying is that Petunia _magically_ found a way of avoiding me all the way up until Christmas Eve. She couldn't have planned it better!"

"Planned it better?" her father asked, chortling. "She's spending time with her fiancé's family, getting to know them. He lives quite far away, and she's worried she doesn't know them well enough. I think she's quite sensible. Before I married your mother I spent an entire summer with her family in their cottage in Wales. Trust me, Lily, when you find someone to get married to, you'll want to feel as comfortable around their family as you can."

"Bullshit," Lily muttered under her breath.

"What was that, young lady?" Jonathan Evans snapped, eyes leaving the road to find his daughter's face in the mirror.

"Nothing," Lily mumbled, resting her cheek against the window and staring angrily out at the busy M25.

When she gets married? That had no relevance whatsoever!

She scowled again, eyes fixing briefly on a man stood on the layside with a hand comically clapped to his head, smoke issuing from the bonnet of his car. Then she grinned, biting her lip. What would her parents say if she told them that, were she so inclined, she had already found someone to get married to? She thought back to the Christmas party, vaguely recalling accepting a proposal of marriage from James Potter who, somehow, may have been even drunker than she.

"What's so funny, Lil?" Michelle asked in an attempt to bring them back to a cheerful conversation.

"What? Oh, nothing. We had a bit of a party last night to celebrate Christmas. I was just thinking about it."

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes," Lily chuckled. She could still feel James Potter's hand taking hers, dragging her to dance, begging and whining and her reluctance, could still hear Juliette's raucous laughter. "Yes, it was brilliant."

* * *

"How come you're picking me up?" Wendy asked as she slipped into the front seat of her brother's car. "And since when do you have a car, for that matter?"

""Since I am a mature, responsible adult."

"Psshht," Wendy sniggered. Josh raised his eyebrows.

"Oi, I can kick you out of _my_ car if you aren't nicer to me," he warned.

"I repeat…_psshht_. Just because _you_ got kicked out of _dad's_ car, that doesn't mean you'll do the same to me."

"Well maybe I want to know what it feels like to kick someone out of the car, rather than just be the one getting kicked out! I'll make you walk all the way home," he threatened dangerously.

"From London?" Wendy asked dryly. "At least you only had to walk from one village to the other. Plus you sort of deserved it."

"Because I threw up in the car?!"

"You were hungover."

"I was fifteen!"

"After going to a party he had banned you from going to."

"I nearly collapsed!"

"And lied when he called, saying you were staying at Derek's house."

"I could have _died_!"

"Oh don't exaggerate," Wendy admonished, waving an airy hand and grinning cheekily. The pair began to laugh out loud, singing together along with the radio to their Christmas favourites, but Wendy soon had to stop, her head pounding and her ears ringing.

"Hmm, how's the head, dearie?" Josh asked in mock sympathy, patting the crown of her head patronisingly. Wendy winced.

"Fine," Wendy replied stubbornly, opening the window to let the cold air rush in, hoping it would relieve some of the nausea.

"_Psshht_," Josh mocked, and Wendy rolled her eyes.

"Just keep driving," she said sarcastically. "Eyes on the road, oh mature and responsible one of the adult nature."

* * *

"…and you _did_ say it would be ok – Prongs said he's going to make a Quidditch player of me yet, so I'm staying there with the Potters for a few days – Padfoot'll be there already, because he's been pretty much living there for about two years already, and Juliette's there as well – you should have seen James' face when he realised Sirius and Juliette had gone behind his back! He was terrified of telling Sirius that Juliette would be spending Christmas with them, then it comes down to it and they already know! Honestly, it was hilarious – but James got in a sulk when everyone was saying how they think James is a pushover with his friends – which I think is kind of unfair, because I don't think James is a pushover at all – I mean – mum? Mum, are you even listening to me?"

Marissa Pettigrew, her eyes on the Daily Prophet, nodded.

"Yes dear," she said, reaching over to the coffee table to pick up her mug. "James is a pushover. You were saying?"

"No, I'm saying James _isn't_ a pushover!" Peter corrected.

He fell silent, watching his mother, wondering for a moment when the last time was that she really listened to a word he said. She was perching lightly on the leather couch, while he had wriggled in between the two cushions on the armchair. He had been home for a grand total of half an hour, and already he could feel the settling gloom of boredom weighing him down.

"So, when are you going to the Potter's then?" Marissa asked, placing her newspaper down by her side and finally looking at her son, who beamed.

"You were listening?"

"Of course I was listening, pudding," she said lightly, wrinkling her nose fondly as she smiled back. "When are you going?"

"I think this weekend, if that's ok," Peter said excitedly.

"That's perfect," Marissa replied. "I'll be having some friends over for dinner on Friday, so if you left before they arrived that would be just fine. And I have some visitors tonight as well, so it'll probably be best if you keep to yourself for the rest of the evening."

Peter nodded slowly, the smile on his face faltering slightly. Before they arrived? Keep to yourself? That could only mean one thing.

"Is it Mrs Nott coming over tonight?" he asked quietly. Marissa's sharp eyes pierced his, and he shrank back in his chair a little.

"Yes, and on Friday as well," her reply was cold. "And if you're out of the house before she and some other friends get here, as well as nicely out of the way tonight, that would be all the better for everyone." Her voice was clipped, and the loving warmth in her smile had gone, replaced entirely with warning signs not to push any further.

"Ok," Peter said in a small voice. "I'll go owl Prongs and tell him I'll be a bit earlier than planned."

"You do that, pudding."

Peter heaved himself out of the armchair, looking back only to see his mother once again reading the Daily Prophet, mug of tea in her hand and eyes fixed on the headlines.

Sighing quietly to himself, Peter left the room.

* * *

"Mum, dad! I'm home!" Elizabeth called as she slammed the front door behind her. She paused in the middle of an expansive hallway, her eyes on the double stairways of marble almost shining with polish, and all was silent. Another three steps in, she repeated her statement, but her only reply was the echo bouncing back from the high ceiling above, from which hung a large chandelier. "Anyone?" she asked, dropping her trunk with a clang. "You're daughter has returned!" she shouted angrily, staring around the wide landing around her. "And she's pregnant!" she tried. "She's been expelled for sleeping with her Defence Against the Dark Arts professor!" she shouted. "And she's joined Voldemort!"

When it became apparent that no answer was going to answer Lizzie sighed, running a frustrated hand through her blonde locks. "Tilly?"

The instant the patter of footsteps resounded through the emptiness, and soon a small figure came into view, waddling lightly up from the downward stairs that led to the kitchen.

"Missy 'Lizabeth!" the house elf cried excitedly, and Lizzie smiled at the ferocity of the hug she received, tiny arms wrapping securely around her thigh. "So good to see you home safe and sound!" Tilly looked close to weeping with joy.

"It's good to be home, Tilly. Well, it's good to see you again," Lizzie corrected, glancing up once again to see still no-one had come to greet her other than the elf.

"Would Missy 'Lizabeth like something to eat?" Tilly offered. Lizzie shook her head.

"No thanks, Tilly, I'll get something later. I think I'll just go to my room."

"Tilly cleaned it especially, Missy 'Lizabeth!" the elf squeaked. "And there's fresh lilies on your dressing table. And Tilly has made Missy 'Lizabeth's favourite, lemon meringue pie!"

"Thanks Tilly," Lizzie patted the elf's head fondly. "I'll come down soon, you can go now." The elf turned and toddled away, splayed feet smacking the floor with heavy slaps as she scuttled back to the kitchens.

Once alone Lizzie picked up her trunk and strolled solemnly up the left staircase. The third door on the left, at the far end of the landing, led to her bedroom, and she shut the door behind her with a sigh of relief. Back in her own room at last, she closed her eyes and sank to the floor.

"Elizabeth, is that you?"

"No, it's Bellatrix Lestrange," Lizzie whispered to herself with a smirk.

"Elizabeth?" This time there was a knock, too.

"Yes mother," she replied sweetly. Reluctantly Lizzie stood, opened the door, and then walked over to perch on the edge of her bed, where she proceeded to play with the corner of the duvet cover until she was joined by a tall woman, crimson nails sharpened to talons, with thick black lines running along the top lid of her eyes and tight ringlets of honey blonde hair set perfectly around her heart shaped face.

"Ahh, you're home," Roberta Harding said lightly, as if unsure whether to look surprised, pleased, or interested.

"Apparently," the teen replied coolly.

"Let me see you then."

Lizzie stood sturdily, awaiting inspection. Roberta clicked her tongue as she examined her daughter, reaching up to fix the tangle of hair spilling over Lizzie's shoulders and straightening her clothes.

"There we are, lovely." Lizzie wriggled her toes as the older woman leaned over to her cheek, lips not quite meeting skin as Roberta made a light kissing sound and stepped back. "Well darling, I must say you've caught me by surprise."

"You knew I was coming home today," Lizzie pointed out, but Roberta tutted, admonishing her for interrupting.

"Your father's at the Ministry and I'm about to go meet him. Some hag of a woman called _Dolores_ something or another is trying to wheedle her way into the office. The cheek of her! Honestly sweetie, I don't know what the Ministry is coming to these days." Lizzie nodded, fascinated by how her mother could possibly care so much about politics that she wasn't even involved in. "So I'm just leaving now to join your father in his meeting with the Minister. Tilly's here if you need anything, I should be back around ten-ish, but it may be closer to midnight."

She was already half way out of the door.

"Mum?" Lizzie called. Roberta stopped, looking back expectantly.

"Yes darling?"

Lizzie gave her mother a quick onceover, taking in the smooth fitting robes and clicking scarlet heels; the well made up face and thinly waxed eyebrows.

"It's good to see you."

Roberta smiled.

"Yes. It's good to see you too, Elizabeth."

* * *

"Jamie, you're home!"

Jacinta Potter enveloped her son in a bone crushing hug, and James blushed at the sniggers of his two friends behind him.

"Yes, thank you mother," he spluttered, patting the top of her head before prising her arms apart and stepping back.

"And Sirius!" Jacinta grabbed the second boy before he could skip out of the way, and he made dramatic noises of being smothered. Jacinta smacked his arm playfully.

"Good to see you too, Jacinta," he barked.

"And Juliette," Jacinta said fondly, stepping forwards and reaching up to touch the girl's face before wrapping her arms tightly around her for a few moments. "We don't see you nearly enough, dear," she said pointedly, to which Juliette grinned.

"I know, I really should visit more often. Give you a break from all these boys."

"Boys?" James and Sirius cried.

"We are not boys," James growled, insulted.

"We are men!" Sirius shouted proudly, and together they proceeded to beat their chests and make howling noises in loud voices.

"Funny, I thought that was what _apes_ did, not men," Juliette smirked, laughing Jacinta.

"You're right, I do need another woman on my team," the older woman admitted. With an expectant look she pointed at the trunks sat in the porch, then placed her arm around Juliette's shoulders and stalked into the house, leaving the 'men' to interpret their silent order and carry everything up to the bedrooms.

"Ahh, it's good to be home," Sirius sighed, waving his wand and watching as the bags zoomed up the stairs and out of sight. He flinched at the sound of a crash on the landing, and hoped nothing too valuable was broken. "I wonder if you're mum's got any apple pie?"

"You can say that again," James said, hastily throwing his jacket in the vague direction of the coat rack, which magically leaned to the side to catch it before it could fall to the floor.

"Ahh it's -"

"Not literally," James drawled. Together the two boys walked into the kitchen to find Juliette and Jacinta already sat at the table, casually chatting like old friends, a plate of mince pies in front of them and the teapot just starting to sing on the stove.

"Oi, save some for us!" James cried, and he grabbed a mince pie, placing it whole in his mouth.

"That is disgusting," Juliette looked sickened as Sirius followed James' example. Unfortunately, though he was so proud of himself for managing to annoy Juliette that he choked half way through swallowing and nearly brought it back up again.

"Serves you right for being a greedy guts," Jacinta said in a sing song voice, watching calmly as James proceed to slap his best friend on the back while Sirius coughed and spluttered. When the teapot began screeching that the water was ready she leapt up and busied herself with mugs and teabags. "Don't eat too many of those," she ordered, and looking back saw three guilty faces, each holding another mince pie in their hands. "Oh, go on then," she waved her hand at them in defeat. "Just make sure you've enough room to eat dinner later. Don't forget, Rob Morretty and his family are coming for dinner tonight."

"Yeah, we know," James said. "We saw him today at school. Saw dad too."

"Oh yes, how was he? Not _too_ stressed? Oh, I do worry about that man." Jacinta shook her head, as if admonishing her husband from afar. "And Rob as well? My, my, what on earth's going on?" she wondered aloud.

"Something about Death Eater sympathisers breaking into Honeydukes and freaking out the locals," Sirius said, finding it difficult to speak in more than just vowels thanks to his lips being not quite able to close around a particularly fat mince pie. In his effort to form consonants he succeeded only in spraying Juliette with flakes of pastry from his lips.

"Hmm," Jacinta replied, handing out mugs and taking her seat between James and Juliette.

"How long do we have until dinner then?" James asked.

"You're still hungry?" Jacinta cried in alarm.

"No," Juliette drawled. "He's wondering how long he has to play around on his broomstick until the guests arrive."

James didn't blush, instead grinning proudly and nodding his head.

"Come on then," Sirius slapped his knees before standing up, yawning in a bear-like fashion as he stretched. "Let's get going. You're room's beside ours by the way, Swindon," he nodded to Juliette. "But for now…game of Quidditch, anyone?"


	13. Aftermath Part II

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**12. Aftermath (Part II)**

_**Of family feuds, unwanted guests, and broken arms.**_

"No, you're joking? Surely you're joking!" India-Rose giggled, arms clamped tightly around her stomach. Brogan nodded fervently, his face bright red with laughter.

"I'm serious!" he cried. "We woke up the next day, tent covered in snow with the door flaps open, wearing only our underwear, and do you know what she asked me?"

"What?" India-Rose whispered, her stomach cramping painfully as continued to laugh.

"She asked me if I had any more of that 'nice whiskey stuff'!"

Together the brother and sister let out hoots of laughter, their drinks spilling onto the floor, the stains sinking deep into the carpet as they talked endlessly, swapping stories and sharing almost a year of missed joys since their last meeting.

"She didn't think to ask why she was sat in her underwear on top of a sleeping volcano?" India-Rose asked disbelievingly.

"You mean she didn't think to ask why she was sat in her underwear on top of a sleeping volcano, and still perfectly warm?" Brogan corrected her.

"Right!" she cried, setting her empty glass sideways on the floor and jumping up to sit on her feet. "So what did you do?"

"Flew her back home, modified her memory, never talked to her again, of course," Brogan shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, of course. You do this every day; I forgot," India-Rose chuckled lightly.

"Not _every_ day. Just every week or so."

"Yes, naturally."

"Another drink?" Brogan offered, reaching over to snatch up her glass from the floor.

"Please," she replied, and continued to chuckle to herself. Brogan waltzed into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glasses full to the brim with butterbeer. The plates upon which had been served their uninventive meal of sandwiches, crisps and scotch eggs, followed by a slice of chocolate cake, lay abandoned in the sink. The muggle television had been switched on, but the dull faced news reporter had been placed on mute, and it now served only as a second light in the fast darkening room.

"I really hate winter," Brogan mumbled in a playfully grumpy tone as he hastened to close the curtains of the living room.

"Why?" India-Rose cried in horror.

"It gets dark so quickly!"

"You were living in Greenland for god knows how long!" the girl pointed out incredulously.

"I know!" Brogan said. "It was different there though."

"Oh yes," India-Rose agreed. "English dark is so different to…Greenish dark?" she faltered half way through her sentence, unable to believe there was such a nationality as _Greenish_.

"What?" Brogan asked, confused by her bewildered expression.

"What's the nationality of Greenland?" Brogan shrugged, and India-Rose scowled, dissatisfied. "It can't be Greenish, for Merlin's sake!"

There was a pause as brother and sister considered this phenomenon for a moment. Neither could come up with a suggestion.

"What about Iceland?" Brogan asked. "Are you…Ice-ish?"

"No, don't be stupid. You're…" but against India-Rose failed to come up with an answer. "Wait one moment."

Swiftly she got up, stalked over to the muggle telephone sat on the bookshelf, and picked up the receiver. After dialling in the number, the phone rang six times before someone answered in a gruff voice.

"_Hullo_?"

"Mr Evans?" the girl asked brightly. "It's India-Rose here, I'm a friend of Lily's. I was wondering if I could speak to her?"

"_Just a moment…Lily!" _the voice called, somewhat muffled now he wasn't speaking directly into the receiver. "_You're friend India on the phone_," – India-Rose! The girl corrected to herself – "_She wants to talk to you_…_Here you are, love._"

"Thanks!"

After a few seconds a breathless Lily Evans answered the phone.

"_India-Rose_?"

"Lils!"

"_Yes_?" Lily asked.

"If you're from Greenland, what's your nationality?"

There was a pause as Lily considered this question with wonderment.

"_Why does it matter_?"

"Brogan and I have no idea."

"_Brogan? Your brother_?"

"Oh, yeah, he's home!" India-Rose said gleefully. "I'm staying at his flat with him. So, do you know?"

"_Yes, it's Greenlandic_," Lily said slowly, still wondering why on earth they would possibly need to know. "_Your brother's really home after all this time_?"

"Greenlandic!" India-Rose shrieked, and Brogan repeated her cry with a bark of laughter. "You what? Yes, it's great, isn't it? We're spending Christmas together. Thanks Lily, I'll let you get going now. Sorry for bothering you!"

After a jovial goodbye India-Rose hung up the phone, settling back onto the couch with a sigh of relief.

"Greenlandic," she chuckled, and Brogan shook his head.

"What about Iceland? Are you Icelandic?"

India-Rose looked back over at the phone, for a moment considering calling Lily back. She decided, however, that Lily would rather enjoy her first night back home without further disturbances.

"Guess so," she replied, and together Brogan and India-Rose laughed to themselves all over again, glad to have one another's company after so long apart.

* * *

Charlotte – who introduced herself as Charlotte Winston – turned out to be a charming woman, with sleek brown hair tied in an elegant knot, large doe eyes and a mouth that was prone to smiling. When Remus opened the door to let her in she let out a cry of delight, then kindly extended her hand to shake, treating Remus as if he was a china doll. He wondered whether or not this was a trait picked up from so many years as a social worker.

John was just finishing up in the kitchen when she arrived, and only a short while later they were sitting down at the dinner table to enjoy a freshly cooked meal of homemade pasta and tomato sauce. Remus sat in his usual place, on the far left side of the circular table with his father in the same place he always sat – with his back to the window. Charlotte sat with her back to the door. The fourth side of the table left unoccupied.

Nobody sat in Silvia Lupin's seat anymore.

Charlotte chatted amicably, making sure to draw both father and son into each topic of conversation, and Remus couldn't throw off the feeling that she was treating him like a dying man, speaking in a soothing voice and reaching over to give his arm a friendly pat every so often.

The remnants of the tension that had rolled in waves between father and son before the third party joined them still lingered in the air, the argument left unresolved between them. Remus felt his father's occasional glances, but refused to acknowledge it, or even grace his father with a reciprocating look.

"Are you alright, dear?" Charlotte asked, and Remus blinked, looking up from his half empty plate and into the woman's kindly face.

"Yes," he said, coughing to remove the hoarse croak in his voice. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"You seem awfully distracted," she commented lightly.

"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Simple disagreement with my father, I'll get over it." A small voice in the back of his head congratulated him for the jibe; unfortunately though the voice sounded worryingly like Sirius', which was never a good thing. Maybe he'd pushed a bit too far…

John slammed his fork on to the table with surprising force, and both Remus and Charlotte flinched as he shouted – "For the last time, it's not a disagreement. We've settled the matter!"

"No we haven't. _You_ have dictated my life to me, and I've let the matter go so as not to cause a scene in front of _your_ guest," Remus replied in a sweet voice, and John was distinctly reminded of his Remus' mother Silvia, the simmering undertone of anger in his calm, collected words. It had always infuriated him – he would rather his son shouted, just as he'd always wished his wife would shout at him whenever they argued.

"What seems to be the problem?" Charlotte asked in a consoling voice, settling comfortably into her social worker role as if they were sat in her office, and not around the dinner table.

"Nothing," both Remus and John said firmly. "Sorry about this, Charlotte," John apologised in a sincere voice. "Everything was going so well, too."

"Oh, don't worry about it. Every family has their hiccups," she smiled, her voice warm and understanding, and she waved away his apologies with an airy hand.

"Let it go, Remus," John said in a warning tone.

"I have," the boy replied.

"Then just leave it be!"

"_It?!"_

"_Her_ be, then!" John thumped his clenched fist on the table, and the plates rattled with the force. "You're in no condition to go running around with some pretty girl!"

Remus glared at his father, eyes flicking to Charlotte and back again. But the woman let out a soft _ah_ of understanding and clasped her hands neatly on the table, leaning towards the teenager.

"I have to say, Remus. I think your father has a point. You know, I currently have a client with a similar condition-" but she was cut off by Remus, whose expression sharply turned from irritation to fury.

"What did you tell her?"

"Don't worry, dear!" Charlotte placed a reassuring hand on Remus' wrist before John could reply. "Borderline Personality Disorder is nothing to be ashamed of, you can still be perfectly happy! But your father's right. You have to be careful, especially at the age you're at now." She nodded wisely at him, but Remus could feel the tremors in his chest as his anger, too overwhelming for his human body, swelled in his chest.

"Dad?" he said coldly, before standing up and walking out of the door. He heard his father briefly mutter something apologetic to Charlotte before following his son out of the room. The dining room door closed behind them, and John cast a quick silencing charm on the door. Remus let his rage burst out in a loud bellow.

"_Why_ would you tell her something like that?"

"I had to say something!" John explained as calmly as possible. "What if she ended up visiting around the full moon?"

"And you thought _Borderline Personality Disorder_ would explain that, do you?"

"It was the first thing that popped into my head when I was talking to her!"

"Why couldn't you have just said I was _ill_ at the time?" Remus yelled, and John placed a hand on his forehead, his eyes closed. "You have to put a label on me, don't you?" Remus hissed. "You couldn't just let me be normal. I get enough of it in our world, can't I be someone else in the muggle world?" John bit his lip guiltily, unable to meet his son's glassy, betrayed eyes.

For a moment he hoped there would follow a long silence, and then he would be able to hug Remus, say he was sorry, and things would calm down. Remus, however, was not ready to let that happen. Not this time.

"It's hard enough as it is, without a father who can't even treat you like a proper son!" His voice was accusing, and his fingers were bunched tightly into fists by his sides. His frigid body was trembling with anger.

"It's hard for me too, Remus!" John said in a loud voice, doing his best not to shout. "I plan my whole life around you! Everything I do, I check to make sure it's not on a full moon. I've sacrificed a lot to make sure you're as happy as possible. I fought damn hard to get you into that bloody school. I've fought hard ever since you were bitten!"

"Good!" Remus shouted, and the selfishness eating away at him felt so good to let out that his voice only grew louder with every word. "You should do! It's your fault I'm _stuck_ like this!"

_Slap._

The hand whipped across his cheek, and he could feel it burn as the welt appeared. He blinked, flinching away from his father who looked shocked at himself, the offending hand held aloft and his eyes wide with horror.

"Remus," he whispered, taking a step towards his son, but Remus backed away three paces, finally silent, his hurt overpowering his rage. His wary eyes surveyed his father through blurry tears, and his lips quivered.

"I'm going out," he murmured, and without reaching for a coat he walked slowly towards the front door.

"It's late," John called desperately.

"Don't care," Remus spat.

"You can't go running around at night when there're dark wizards all over the place!"

"Like hell I can!"

And with that Remus – patient, tolerant, peacemaker Remus – slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

"Sorry about that," Lily mumbled as she sat back down in her place at the dinner table. "She wanted to know about the nationality of Greenland."

The blank looks she received from her parents brought a smile to her face.

"Yes," Lily sighed. "Don't ask. I don't really know why. She's a strange one."

"Yes, I recall," Michelle Evans replied with a grin very similar to that of her daughter's. "Anyway, sweetie, you were telling us about this party of yours?"

"Yes," Lily nodded, her fork merely playing around with the last of the salad in the bottom of her bowl. "Well it was Juliette's idea originally. She said we had to leave Hogwarts with a bang, seeing as there won't be much chance for spectacular parties once we leave."

"Hmm?" Jonathan Evans asked, gulping down the last of his water and throwing the empty glass a disgusted look, clearly not convinced its health benefits outweighed a good beer. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know, with the war and everything," Lily said uneasily.

"Well, war's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think? It's not exactly World War Three," he said lightly, chortling to himself as he crunched another stick of carrot.

"Mm," Lily mumbled, more to herself than to her parents.

"Now John," Michelle admonished her husband. "_We_ don't know what's going on. Let Lily explain! Go on, Lily dear," Michelle encouraged her youngest daughter, but Lily shook her head.

"It's alright. You don't need to hear about it anyway. It's not important." The lies left an acrid taste on her tongue.

"Anything that's important to our daughter is important to us," Michelle corrected firmly. "Isn't that right, John?"

"Yes, of course!" John cried. "Speak up, Lily. What's this war all about, then?"

Lily almost rolled her eyes, thinking of all the times she had been reprimanded by her friends for patronising them, when in fact she was speaking quite plainly, in her father's frank, if a little condescending tone.

"Well, it started off with the odd incident," Lily looked at her plate as she spoke, and she could feel her parents' eyes watching her face with scrutiny. "Then people started to see a connection between them…that was in about my fourth year. It's been getting worse every year. It's one wizard. Well, it started as one wizard. Now he's getting plenty of followers. People are even joining him straight from Hogwarts…some are, at least. It's gone from little things to, well, it's like terrorism."

She paused, however, because at that moment there was a firm knock on the door.

All three turned simultaneously, bewildered as to who could be calling on them at this hour. While Michelle and John appeared merely curious, Lily's eyes grew wide with sudden fear.

"I'll get it," she said quietly, and once out the room she slipped her wand out of her belt hook, which she had modified to fit her most important asset perfectly. Cautiously she approached her front door, arm outstretched to push the handle, wand hidden behind her.

Taking a deep breath, Lily pushed open the front door and stepped back.

"_Remus?!_" she cried and, slotting her wand back into place, she leapt to the side to pull her friend into the house. "What on earth are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?" she demanded, sounding utterly perplexed.

"You told me last year," Remus said simply.

"But what are you doing here?" Lily asked, and Remus bit his lip guiltily. "I had a bit of an argument with my dad."

"Oh no," Lily sighed, looping her arm around Remus' and squeezing it tightly in comfort.

"I guess I wanted some company," Remus admitted. "And I know India-Rose's dad hates magic, so I couldn't really go there; and the Potters already had Sirius and Juliette, plus I'll be going to stay with them later anyway. They always have some big dinner with an old family friend on the first night of the Christmas holidays; I didn't want to intrude on tradition. I wasn't sure where I could go without getting in the way."

"Well I'm glad you came here," Lily replied immediately. "I always said you could come any time. Though I'm sure James will be most disappointed that you didn't go to him."

Remus smiled in relief. "Thanks, Lily. You're a star."

"I know," Lily winked. "To be honest, you've rescued me from an awkward 'wizarding war' discussion with my parents. Talk about good timing!" she joked lightly, looking awkward. "But India-Rose isn't home anyway," she said in a curious voice. "Her brother's back! She's staying with him, apparently."

"Really?" Remus asked, intrigued.

"Yes!"

"Well I definitely couldn't intrude on that," Remus said fondly, "She'll be so pleased to see him." And with that Lily led the boy into the dining room. He looked apprehensive, but she nudged him eagerly into the room.

"Mum, dad, this is Remus. He's a friend. This is my mum and dad, Michelle and John."

"Remus," Michelle cried, sounding disturbingly similar to her daughter, Remus noted. "We've heard so much about you. Lily speaks of you all the time! Come in, come in!" She welcomed the boy warmly, ushering him into an empty seat at the table and offering him some salad.

Accepting only a glass of orange juice, reassuring both mother and daughter that he had already eaten, Remus apologised profusely for barging in on them.

"I won't stay long," he insisted. "I just, um, needed to talk to Lily. Thanks so much, you're so kind," he said sincerely to both Mr and Mrs Evans.

"See Lily?" Michelle elbowed her daughter suggestively. "Now there's a nice boy for the likes of you," she winked as both Lily and Remus blushed. "Charming, polite, and you've always spoken so well of him."

"Actually, Mrs Evans…Michelle," Remus corrected from the playfully stern look he received. "As lovely as Lily is, I couldn't possibly date your daughter. It would be a terrible betrayal of a very dear friend of mine."

Lily blushed further still at the teasing glance Remus threw her.

"Oh yes, you're that James Potter lad's friend, aren't you?" John laughed loudly. "Well, all I can say is at least the boy has good taste."

"Dad!" Lily hissed, wide eyed with embarrassment, but Remus chuckled along with the redhead's parents.

"He speaks the truth," Remus encouraged, and Lily rolled her eyes.

"In any case," she said firmly, determined to regain control of the conversation. "I couldn't date Remus, even if I saw him as anything other than a good friend. He has a girlfriend."

Remus wasn't particularly pleased at the smug grin Lily threw him, but he couldn't help the smile of his own.

"Ooh, do you know?" Michelle giggled, reminding Remus very much of an excited Lily.

"Yes, it's India-Rose," Lily said proudly. She caught Remus' eye, noting the hint of concern in his eyes as he smiled over at her, unnoticed by her parents.

"Oh, how lovely!" Michelle smiled amenably.

"Remus, can I talk to you for a minute? Just outside?" Lily beckoned to Remus, who excused himself with a nod and smile, and followed the redhead into the hallway. Stood by the coat rack, Lily narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing," Remus shook his head. "Just…the argument with my dad?"

"It was about India-Rose?" Lily asked, sounding affronted.

"And I was thinking about it. And maybe he's right. Maybe I shouldn't be-"

"You stop that thought right there, Mr Lupin," Lily prodded Remus' forehead with each syllable, her voice stern and her expression set. "Don't you dare back out on this now. That girl adores you, and unless you don't feel the same way about her, you have no right, no justified reason, to end this before it's even started. No disrespect intended but your father clearly has no idea what he's talking about if he thinks you should just ignore your feelings for someone, and sacrifice not only your own happiness, but her happiness too, for this _furry little problem_, as James would say."

"Quoting him now, are we?" Remus teased. "Watch out, _Lily-flower_, you'll be in love before you know it."

"Oh shut up," Lily snapped playfully. "Now, I think we need to sit down, have a nice talk and a drink, and then you need to get your arse back home and _calmly_ explain to your father that you are a teenager, and deserve happiness as much as anyone else. And if it's a mistake? Well, teenagers deserve to make mistakes as well."

"Mistakes such as…accepting a proposal of marriage from Prongs and running around telling everyone you're going to have ten children together?" Remus asked lightly.

"I did _not_ tell people…did I?"

* * *

"Alright everyone, I want to welcome home our Wendy. Merry Christmas, Pooh-Bear," Alan Dorrington said proudly. He was standing at the top of the table, glass raised to toast his oldest daughter, who beamed as her family cheered, raising similar glasses and beating the table with their cutlery. "Now, let's tuck in."

The meal, as it always was for a homecoming, was a spectacular affair. If she hadn't grown used to Hogwarts' feasts, Wendy would have been overwhelmed with the food. As it was, the table creaked under the weight of the dishes – enough to feed ten, never mind the Dorrington family, made of two parents and four children. As usual, for a few minutes there were merely the sounds of munching and sighing at the delicious meal before the chatting began.

"So, Wendy, anything new and exciting to tell us about Hogwarts?" Susan Dorrington asked.

"Nahh, mum," Wendy shook her head simply. "Just school, you know?"

"And _parties,_," Josh interrupted with a wink.

"Joshua!" Wendy hissed, attempting to kick her older brother under the table, but only succeeding in reaching her younger sister's leg. Amelia cried out, her hand dropping her fork to fly to her ankle.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Me-Me," Wendy said with a laugh, sticking her tongue out at Josh, who looked very pleased with himself.

"A party?" Susan asked shrewdly.

"Did you get drunk?" the second Dorrington son, twelve year old Maxwell, asked in a sing-song voice.

"No, Maxxie," Wendy said firmly, throwing Josh a dirty look as he snorted into his mashed potato.

"You did!" Nine year old Amelia cried, pointing at her sister in horror. "You drinked alcohol! Didn't you?"

"_Drank_, dear," Susan corrected, before turning to Wendy with a keen stare. "I hope you were sensible, Wendy."

"Yes, mum," Wendy sighed. Joshua coughed into his dinner, the noise sounding something alike to the word _hangover_.

"Winifred!" Susan cried in alarm.

"Joshua!" Wendy shrieked.

"Alan!" Susan said loudly, looking for back up.

"Winifred!" Josh squealed mockingly.

"Amelia!" Amelia bellowed.

"Maxwell!" Maxxie shouted.

"Children!" Alan said, trying to hide his grin as his two youngest children giggled to themselves proudly. "Now, Wendy, did I hear the word hangover there?"

"From Josh!" Wendy insisted, a bubble of laughter in her throat.

"Josh?" Alan asked, holding up a hand to silence his wife.

"Wendy?" Josh questioned amusedly.

"Amelia?" Amelia asked again.

"No, Me-Me. It was funny the first time," Susan assured her youngest child pointedly.

"I'm seventeen!" Wendy said firmly. "I'm an adult in my world!"

"Hmm," Susan said suspiciously, returning to her meal. Alan Dorrington, however, simply laughed heartily.

"We know, Pooh-Bear," he said jovially. "Your mother, unfortunately, is under the impression you're still twelve." He winked at his daughter, who pouted in mock upset, picking up her fork again and reaching over for more peas.

"I am not, Alan!" Susan looked somewhat ruffled by the accusation, but didn't say another word on the matter. Josh, who appeared disappointed by the result his comment had received, glared playfully at Wendy for a few seconds before returning to his meal.

"How's school then, guys?" Wendy asked her younger siblings, both of whom groaned. "Come on!" she laughed. "Maxxie? How was your first term at high school?"

"It was ok," Maxxie shrugged nonchalantly, looking unimpressed.

"You were excited when you finished your first week…" Amelia pointed out snidely.

"Yeah well, they didn't give us much homework in our first week," Maxxie replied glumly.

"You're a first year!" Josh said loudly. "Just you wait until O levels!" he warned. "You won't leave your room all year. I don't think I saw sunlight for three days solid once…" he reminisced with a pained expression on his face.

"No, that was just you sulking because dad told you he would kick you out of the house for being queer if you got your ear pierced," Wendy said simply.

"I did not say that!" Alan retorted, shooting glances at his two younger children, who looked delighted at their father's embarrassment. "I mean…I don't think I phrased it quite that way, _Winifred_." Wendy smiled innocently.

"I really think you did," she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin as she considered the matter for added effect. "Actually, there may well have been a fair amount of swearing thrown in too," she pondered.

"There was," Josh said darkly shuddering at the memory. "I've been scarred ever since. Rejected and humiliated by my own father, and in front of my little sister at that!"

"Well, that's all in the past now," Alan spoke over his son firmly, shooting Wendy a look for bringing up the subject in the first place, but throwing her a wink as well. "And aren't you glad I stopped you?" he asked. Josh nodded reluctantly.

"You never kicked me out for the tattoo, though," he replied obstinately.

"For now," was all Alan could say. Together Wendy and Josh met one another's eyes for a brief moment before grinning at one another and glancing back down at their plates, stifling their giggles by shovelling more food into their already full mouths.

Wendy smiled to herself. She was home at last.

* * *

She had arrived several hours ago, and by the sounds of the chatter Mrs Nott had no intentions of leaving any time soon. Which, of course, meant Peter had spent the last few hours amusing himself upstairs. As usual, this meant going all the way up to the study in the attic, where resided a portrait of his father.

Michael Pettigrew had not died a particularly interesting or heroic death. Some even considered dying of Dragon Pox in this day and age to be somewhat _embarrassing_, especially given that he hadn't been particularly old at the time. He hadn't been very interested in the idea of a self portrait when the famous artist Maurice Vestemont had offered to paint him, but Marissa, his beautiful, elegant, proud wife Marissa, had insisted it would be a good idea.

For Peter, this turned out to be the truth, as from the age of seven, when his father had died, he still, in a strange way, had a father to talk to.

And so it was, with the lower floor of the house off limits until Mrs Nott had left the house, Peter spent the evening with a plate of lasagne, a jug of pumpkin juice, and a portrait of his father.

"Do you know what they talk about?" Michael asked curiously, and Peter shrugged dully.

"Nope," he said, popping the _p_ and picking at the scraps of bolognaise sauce on his plate with his knife. "Don't really care, either. Guess the less I know the better. Mrs Nott's son's been getting involved with You-Know-Who. At least, that's what it sounds like. I don't want mum to be like Mrs Nott is, but I think she might be already."

"No, not your mother," Michael assured his son. "She wouldn't get involved in anything dangerous. She's a good woman, your mother. Ambitious, yes; but dark? No." Michael smiled at Peter, who didn't feel overly convinced, but didn't say anything else against his mother, whom he loved; he really did. He just didn't quite trust her.

"_Peter!_"

The boy flinched at his mother's light, friendly call.

"Go on," Michael insisted, raising his eyebrows from his permanent seat in a black leather armchair. "She's waiting."

Peter's lips twisted reluctantly but he stood nonetheless, picking up his plate and juice. "Bye, dad," he mumbled.

"Bye son." He felt the eyes of the portrait watch him keenly, but he didn't look back.

The ladder from the attic to the landing creaked worryingly, and Peter clambered down as quickly as possible for fear it would finally break and he'd go crashing to the floor. But it didn't, and he was soon jogging hastily down the stairs where his mother awaited him.

"Mrs Nott says it's been too long since she saw you," Marissa informed him in a clipped voice. "Come on, and be polite!" she hissed, smoothing his collar before pushing him hurriedly into the living room, where sat Mrs Theodora Nott.

"Ahh, Peter," said Mrs Nott. "So lovely to see you again. My, my…you've grown!" Her tone was sickly, and despite her words she didn't seem overly pleased to see the Gryffindor boy, who smiled meekly, sitting where his mother pointed on the wooden chair opposite the couch. He felt a little like he was sitting down for an interview. "You must be close to leaving Hogwarts, are you not?" Mrs Nott asked with vague curiosity.

"Mhmm," Peter said. "Errm…yes," he corrected. "I'm in my last year." His eyes flicked to his mother, whose keen gaze was fixated on him.

"Yes," Mrs Nott sipped her tea as she scrutinised him. "And what do you plan to do after education?"

"I'm not really sure," Peter admitted, blushing as he noticed his mother roll her eyes, unimpressed by his lacking answer.

"Well, my Lucas knew exactly where he wanted to go. And sure enough, he got where he wanted to go in life." This seemed to please Mrs Nott, comparing her friend's son to her own, as her smile grew smug and she patted Marissa's knee fondly. "Not that I'm pointing blame of any sort, of course. Not everyone is destined to the same greatness."

"No, apparently not," Marissa said in a hollow voice, sparing her smile only for her friend, while flicking her icy eyes to Peter in disappointment.

"And who do you associate with?" Mrs Nott asked, and this time Peter was certain he could see the humiliated panic in his mother's eyes as she waited for him to answer.

"James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, mostly," he answered truthfully. Unlike his mother, he was not ashamed of such friends.

"Oh Potter, of course. _Gryffindor_," Mrs Nott smiled her sickly sweet smile again. "And that Sirius Black-you know!" she cried, turning to Marissa again. "I met his mother for coffee mere days after he was sorted in Gryffindor. What a state she was in! Oh, she kept it to herself mostly, as she always has done, but her anger was impossible to miss. It's a miracle his brother turned out the way he did, with the influence of an older brother like that. And who else? Lupin? Don't know the name. Half blood, I assume?"

"They're good friends," Peter said firmly, defiantly ignoring his mother, who flashed him a warning look.

"Oh really?" Mrs Nott sounded amused by the notion. "Well, I'm sure they are for now. Don't count on it, though, Peter dear," she reached over to pat his knee, similarly to how she had treated his mother only moments before. "People turn on you quickly if you can't be sure you can trust them. You'll always have a friend in my Lucas when things go wrong, dear. _If_, of course," she corrected, a challenging twinkle in her eyes as she surveyed the boy.

Peter swallowed nervously, desperate to argue for his friends. His mother's eyes, however, were no longer cold, but burning with a fire that tended to precede full blown fury.

"Thank you," he said stiffly.

But inside he scoffed. No force on this earth, magical or muggle, would make him choose families like the Notts over the Marauders.

* * *

The house was silent, each door closed firmly shut and every set of curtains drawn. The only light to be found within the mansion was in a small room that served as both pantry and kitchen, where sat a tall blonde girl at a low table, slowly picking away at a plate of lemon meringue pie.

Around her the only sound was the patter of little footsteps as a small house elf plodded around to her own merry whistle, cleaning the pots and tidying the cupboards.

"Tilly," Lizzie said in a small voice, her eyes on the last scraps of meringue.

"Yes, Missy 'Lizabeth?" Tilly squeaked. "Is you wanting more pie, Miss? Or maybe a cup of cocoa?"

"No, it's alright," and Lizzie smiled despite her mood at the elf's disappointed expression. "Oh, alright. I'll have some cocoa, please."

"Right away, Missy 'Lizabeth. Anything else?" the elf asked as she began chasing around the kitchen, fixing the girl a drink eagerly.

"I was wondering, well, I wanted to ask you…" Lizzie's voice tailed off, throwing her fork on the table and pushing her plate away to watch the elf with fond amusement.

"Anything, Missy 'Lizabeth."

"How often do my parents eat at home?"

If the elf thought this to be an odd question she didn't show it in her expression. She continued to potter around, mug and spoon in hand, and hesitated only a moment to think before answering quite candidly. "Not so often, Missy 'Lizabeth. No more than usual, at least. They eats Sunday roast, of course, and usually they will eats breakfast at home. If Tilly may, why is you asking?"

"Oh," Lizzie sighed, staring around the pristine pantry and kitchen with a glum expression. "I was just wondering."

She would have felt lonely, sat in this empty house with only an elf for company, but Lizzie could think of few memories of home that differed from exactly that: Elizabeth and the house elf, waiting for Mr and Mrs Harding to get back from work.

It was nearing midnight, but Lizzie didn't feel sleepy in the slightest.

Sat on the windowsill, high out of the way and surveying the room with an austere glare was Rowena, her parents' Eagle Owl. She watched as the bird ruffled her feathers in a haughty manner that Lizzie was almost certain her mother had _trained_ her to do.

Without an owl of her own, Lizzie had always had to borrow Rowena to contact her friends while at home, using Singer, India-Rose's tawny owl, when at school. Lizzie wondered whom it was she felt like writing to most.

The answer, of course, popped straight into her head, but she pushed the idea away before it could fully form in her mind. No, she wasn't going to allow herself even the temptation.

"There you go, Missy 'Lizabeth," Tilly interrupted her train of thoughts, and Lizzie started a little as a steaming mug was pushed into her chilly hands.

"Thanks, Tilly," she stammered after a moment. Tilly nodded, a smile curving her wrinkled lips before she carried on with the washing up, her tuneless whistle loud in the cluttered room.

"_Darling, we're home_!"

Lizzie flinched at the voice, turning around at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

"_Where are you, Elizabeth_?" her mother cried.

"_Elizabeth_?" Her father's called.

"In here," Lizzie shouted.

After a few moments Roberta and Lysander Harding appeared in the doorway.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" Roberta demanded. "We have a dining room to eat in, sweetheart," she said firmly. "Leave Tilly to her jobs, come on." And with that Roberta turned, heels clicking on the floor as she walked away.

"Hello darling," Lysander kissed the crown of his daughter's head as she greeted him. "Good time at school?" he asked.

"Yes, we-" Lizzie started, but he had already turned, beckoning for her to join them in the living room.

Sighing a little to herself, Lizzie thanked Tilly for the cocoa again and followed her parents, taking a seat on the floor beside the coffee table. She ignored the irritated look her mother threw her for her choice of seat.

"Why are you such a state, dear?" Roberta asked shrewdly.

Lizzie looked herself up and down, taking in the clean cotton nightdress, fluffy white dressing gown and padded slippers. "Oh," she said, reaching up to rub her hand on her mess of damp locks that were scraped into a scruffy bun. "I had a bath, and I washed my hair."

"Hmm, you should always dry your hair, dear," Roberta said pointedly. "It looks so much neater when you dry it, so it's not left to…" she gestured the slight curls of wispy gold that were spilling around her daughter's face.

"Oh, leave her be, pumpkin," Lysander waved his hand airily, eyes not leaving the Evening Prophet that was unfolded on his lap. "It's late. She'll have time to fix herself in the morning, won't you, darling?"

Lizzie didn't bother with a reply, she simply sipped her drink. For a moment she listened as her mother continued to prattle about the meeting they had endured, informing her of the goings on at the ministry, pausing only to allow time for Lizzie to gasp in shock or sigh in sympathy at appropriate moments.

The clock soon chimed midnight, but no-one took any notice. Tilly raced in a few minutes later to light some more lamps for them, and Lizzie smiled at the elf as she pattered past, but Tilly, too absorbed in her work under the eye of her masters, entered and exited as swiftly as possible without looking up from the floor.

"Sweetheart, aren't you a bit old for hot chocolate?" Roberta asked, peering into Lizzie's mug and seeing thick brown liquid and cream. "You really should start drinking coffee, you know."

"I don't like coffee," the girl reminded her mother firmly. "And I like cocoa."

"Hmm," Roberta replied, turning away from her daughter with a stern eye to speak to her husband.

"Lysander, you can't possibly be serious about accepting the Minister's proposal. Norris doesn't have the faintest idea what he's doing! Promote that hag of a woman and shunt you to one side? It's preposterous. I flatly refuse to believe you're going to accept the deal. You realise it won't just be a new position for her? It will be a new office closer to the Minister's, better connections, more public statements, higher influential power, a higher salary…" Roberta looked utterly disgusted.

"Who?" Lizzie asked in spite of herself, ignoring the guilty squirm in her stomach as she considered all the money they already had, without her father getting further promoted.

"Oh, this utter _toad_ of a woman, trying to worm her way up to the Minister's senior staff. _Dolores Imbridge_, what a horrible hag."

"Umbridge, dear," Lysander corrected, still not looking up from the absorbing article.

"Oh, does it matter? Just a fly who shall soon _buzz away_, with any luck." Roberta snapped, scowling at the unlit grate. "Oh, and I saw your friend's father, as well, when I was on my way up for the meeting. Oh, must have been about six o'clock. He didn't look too happy."

"Which friend?" Lizzie asked.

"You know, the Potter boy, Jack-"

"James?"

"Yes, that's the one. His father was just leaving as I arrived."

There was a pause.

"And?" Lizzie asked.

"And what?"

"I assume there's more to the story than that," Lizzie said with a snigger of frustration in her voice.

"No, I just thought you'd like to know," Roberta replied airily.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, ignoring the admonishing look she received from her mother for such an unladylike gesture.

"I'm going to bed," she muttered, draining her mug and placing it on the table. She yawned as she stood upright, making a point to cover her mouth quietly.

"Night sweetheart," Roberta smiled warmly at her daughter.

"Night mum, night dad," Lizzie mumbled.

"Goodnight darling," Lysander hummed, and Lizzie caught a brief glimpse of a large picture of the Minister of Magic, Norris Oakley, on page six of the Evening Prophet as she walked out of the room towards the staircase.

The word _Australia _bubbled on her lips, but she forced it down for fear of the answer she would receive.

* * *

The living room was alive with the chattering of voices.

Sebastian Potter had returned home not long after the clock had struck six thirty, and though concern creased his brow and as his teeth worried his lower lip, he had been sure to appear all smiles as he embraced first his son, then his son's two friends in turn. By seven o'clock, the guests – Robert Morretty, his wife Carlotta, and their beautiful daughter Celise – had arrived, and the meal was soon served after an appetiser.

By eleven o'clock the Firewhiskey had been handed out, Celise drinking only cranberry juice, despite her pleading to her mother to be allowed a quarter glass of whiskey herself.

While the two older women sat on the couch talking amicably about news from Carlotta's family over in Italy, Sebastian and Rob kept close to the fire on hard backed wooden chairs, which was crackling in the grate, their faces grim. James and Sirius sprawled on the floor beside them, and though for a long while Juliette had kept close to Jacinta's side, she too eventually joined them. Celise, as usual, spent her time close to Sirius, who for once looked uncomfortable under the attentions of a pretty girl.

James smirked every time he glanced over to find sixteen year old Celise attempting to engage his best friend in conversation, her somewhat unhealthy obsession with Sirius clearly not dissipating over time, as they had first assumed it would do.

"It'll be good to have you boys in the ranks. Fresh minds; there aren't enough of them these days. Plenty of the kids we get out of Hogwarts don't seem to understand the hard work in being an Auror," Sebastian shook his head sadly. "They like the glamour of the title, but they don't seem to realise quite what dirty work goes on behind the fancy photo shoots for the Daily Prophet, or the medals pinned to your chest."

James nodded hungrily, and Sirius, doing his best to ignore the way Celise continually leaned close to his shoulder in a plea for attention, stared up in awe of the older Potter.

"What about you, Juliette?" Rob asked. "What do you plan on doing?"

Juliette considered for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't really know. I guess a part of me wants to be an Auror, but I don't think it's really for me. Too many restrictions, and it takes over your entire life. I want something outside fighting dark wizards, too."

"You've got that right. No life for an Auror outside his work," Sebastian admitted regretfully. "The amount of birthday parties and family events I've missed, eh Jimmy?" He ruffled his son's hair fondly, and James smiled back appreciatively.

"I don't mind," James assured his father.

"Aye, but _I_ do," Sebastian shook his head. "And just when I think things'll get easier for me, this so called _Dark Lord_ comes along to spoil my peace. I tell you, it's enough to make a man retire."

"Sebastian Potter, you'll retire the day dark magic ceases to exist at all," Rob laughed huskily. He was a fair few years younger than Sebastian, who had been his mentor back when he was training, and knew the older Potter better than most, having been his student and then partner for so long.

"True," Sebastian admitted, chuckling at himself. "Very true. Still, one can dream. And like I said, won't be long before we've got Jimmy and Sirius, and then maybe the two of us can relax a bit, let them do the work," he winked down at the two boys, who nodded fervently. "Still, Juliette, you'd be a welcome member of the team if you change your mind. If not, well, maybe something a bit less active in the Department. That way you can do your bit, and you'll still be coming home to some peace."

Juliette nodded slowly, her expression distracted as she considered the possibility.

"I think it's so brave, becoming an Auror," Celise hinted. Her eyes flashed to Sirius, who huffed impatiently.

"Yeah, isn't it just," he mumbled.

"Yeah, Sirius is really brave!" James encouraged, his expression sombre, but there was laughter in his eyes. "Except when he's getting chased around by Juliette. Then he screams like a girl and runs away as fast as his little legs can carry him."

"I do not have little legs! And I do not scream like a girl!" Sirius screeched.

"Oh please," Juliette smirked. "Yes you do. On both accounts, that is."

Sirius scowled in indignation. "You're all a bunch of bullies," he muttered.

"Don't be so mean!" Celise insisted, and Sirius flinched as she wrapped a protective arm around his shoulder.

"On second thoughts," Rob chuckled. "Maybe we _don't_ want you joining us. Too much hassle, I'd say."

"That's just Swindon," Sirius waved an airy hand Juliette's way as he threw Celise off and shuffled over to huddle closer to James for shelter. "Take her out of the equation and everything goes smoother than a Peregrine Seventy-Seven."

"Oh you would bring broomsticks into it, wouldn't you?" Juliette snapped. "And for your information, I never attack without provocation, thankyou very much."

"Now, now, children, play nicely," Sebastian patted all three Gryffindors' head condescendingly. He winked fondly at his friend's daughter, whose eyes kept flitting back to Sirius, as if trying to work out whether or not she could get away with inching closer to him again. "Go have a game of Quidditch or something."

"Stop right there!" Jacinta interrupted as all three seventh years leapt to their feet with excitement. "Don't even think about it, Sebastian Potter. Not this late at night, and certainly not after a glass of Firewhiskey…or _three_."

"Not three!" James insisted. "Just one!"

"Half of one, really, wasn't it?" Sirius added.

"Definitely not even a full glass," Juliette implored.

Jacinta glowered at her husband, who smiled back guiltily.

"No higher than thirty feet, be back in by midnight, and don't even think about leaving the garden," she ordered, and her stern eyes followed the trio as they raced out of the room, a sing-song voiced Celise in tow. "And if you fall off your broom and break your neck, James Potter, don't you dare come crying to me!" she bellowed.

It did not take long to collect their brooms and chase out into the chilly night air. Juliette borrowed Sebastian's broom, while Celise used Jacinta's, and soon all four were shooting up into the night sky, James and Sirius howling with delight at the freedom.

"_As if your mum agreed to this!_" Juliette shrieked as she passed by James as he looped around the oak tree.

"She's had a few drinks!" James shrugged with a broad grin on his face.

"And she's softy at heart!" Sirius added.

"You alright, Celise?" James asked as the girl stared down at the ground below her.

"Yeah…" she replied shakily, glad when he pulled up to fly alongside her at a slower pace. "Been a while since I went on one of these, let alone one at night," she tapped the broom handle warily, and James laughed.

Her smile was tentative, but her eyes were soft and playful, her voice a soft lilt of almost French, remnants of her time spent at Beauxbatons.

"Maybe Sirius can re-teach you a few tricks."

Celise blushed. "Ha, ha."

"What?" he asked innocently. "I just get this _really_ weird feeling that you like him."

"Oh really?" she asked, glad that the moon's pale glow was too weak to illuminate her crimson face. "I can't imagine where you'd get such an idea from."

"You're obsessed."

"I'm not obsessed!" Celise gasped as she heard a knowing laugh come from Juliette, who was dipping and diving to her heart's content, and looked up at the pair as she heard the younger girl's screech. Sirius, as oblivious as ever, was swooping down to the ground and back up at top speed, hooting excitedly.

"If you say so, sweetie," James reached over to pat Celise's pale hand that gripped her broom tightly, his other arm hanging by his side, so he was coasting through the air, gripping only with his legs.

"Hold on!" Celise ordered, but James laughed, still not taking hold of his broom.

"Why? It's not like the wind's suddenly going to blow me away, is it?" The light breeze rippled through the air, and James ran his fingers through his hair with ease, eyes searching the distant horizon, wondering vaguely just how much trouble he'd get in for ignoring the _garden limits_ rule set down by his mother.

"I mean it, Jamie!" Celise demanded.

"Celise, honestly-"

"_ATTACK!_" Sirius bellowed as he streamed through the air, colliding with James in fits of laughter, expecting his best friend to retaliate with full force as usual.

His joy was shortlived, however, when James did not return his push.

Taken by surprise James yelped, hands flailing uselessly as he reached for his broomstick but it was too late. Before his fingertips could do any more than brush against the polished wood he tumbled backwards, legs slipping off the back end of his broom and through the air in a flurry of panicked shouting.

He was vaguely aware of Celise screaming, and he shouted wordlessly as he caught sight of the ever nearing ground, speeding too fast to reach for his wand.

"_Prongs_!" Sirius yelled, and James felt a bizarre mixture of swooping relief and overwhelming pain as the floor met him on one side, while his best friend grabbed him from the air, not quite in time to stop his fall, barely lessening the impact of the frosty ground.

"_James_!" he heard Juliette scream as he groaned, cradling one arm with the other and trembling in pain. "What did you do?" Juliette began slapping Sirius around the head as he tried to inspect James' injuries. "What did you _do_?!" she repeated as Sirius did his best to ignore her. Eventually he stood facing the girl, and began reciprocating her shouts with equal fear induced anger.

Celise landed gracefully by James' side, and as both Sirius and Juliette began hollering at one another uselessly she caught James' eye as he nodded, then turned to flee back into the house, shouting Sebastian's name as loudly as she could.

"You idiot, Black!"

"It wasn't my fault, was it?" Sirius growled defensively. "He should have been bloody well holding onto his broom!" He scowled down at James, who was blinking down at his arm as if trying to work out where the blood was coming from.

"Oh, so it's James' fault you bombarded him mid-air and nearly killed him!"

Juliette was furious, and with nothing else to say, and certainly no intention of listening to Sirius' defence, she began beating him around the head and neck again before extracting her wand and jet hosing him with icy water. In her concern for James she couldn't muster the space to be satisfied by Sirius' blood curdling shriek.

"What's happened?" Sebastian cried as he followed Celise out of the house, breathless and eyes wide with fright.

"I have a boo-boo, and Sirius needs a change of clothes," James mumbled dazedly, his head spinning as he watched Sirius shiver and shudder, unable to shout back at Juliette as he trembled with cold.

"Oh for fuck…I mean Merlin's sakes!" Sebastian tenderly examined James' arm. "Right kiddo, up you get. Come on, Celise, you too."

Shakily James allowed himself to be pulled to his feet with his good arm, and he limped back into the house where his mother stood waiting anxiously, all the while supported precariously by both his father and Celise.

"Sirius, Juliette!" Sebastian called back. "Get back inside! I'm getting too old for this…" he muttered, shaking his head tiredly.


	14. Christmas Day

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**13. Christmas Day**

_**In which gifts are given, jokes are made, and promises remain unfulfilled.**_

Sirius awoke quite suddenly at the sound of a loud crash on Christmas morning, and found himself in an empty room.

For a moment he worried that he'd drank more eggnog than he realised and had accidentally fallen asleep in the spare bedroom instead. But no, there lay his things, and the walls were covered in all the right photos and posters, and in the corner of the room sat Giffy, the cuddly Lion toy that James refused to part with.

The only thing missing was James himself.

The youngest Potter's covers were thrown back; his coat was no longer hanging on the back of the chair where it always sat, and Sirius realised with a rush of panic that his own beloved – and still relatively new – leather jacket had fallen to floor.

Wherever James had gone, he'd certainly left in a hurry.

With his leather coat returned lovingly to its pride of place on the old armchair he and James had claimed when Jacinta did a spring clean over the summer Sirius stood in the middle of the room, staring at the emptiness, trying to figure out where James could possibly have disappeared to.

He wondered vaguely why he had woken so early, but upon seeing a large barn owl he sighed.

Bowman, named after the inventor of the Snitch as James constantly reminded everyone, glared at Sirius with an inquisitive eye. He had known the boy long enough now to realise that a package meant for his master could just as easily be given to Sirius, and he held his leg out at an angle, hooting encouragingly.

Sirius yawned widely as he began fiddling with the string, and swore under his breath as Bowman nipped him on the finger for taking so long.

"I'm going! Calm your feathers," he snapped. Bowman, however, took no notice, and shot straight back out of the open window and into pre-dawn sky the moment he was relieved of his burden.

The envelope was small, and written in tiny, spidery neat calligraphy were the simple letters _J.P. _Sirius frowned, ripping out the letter and scanning the brief lines of writing.

_Happy Christmas! Mind if I visit for a few hours? When's your dinner? Don't want to intrude, but thought we could meet up for a while. I have presents, and news! Lots of love, India-Rose x_

For a split second Sirius' heart dropped at the name, having expected a different signature. But he smiled at India-Rose's excited scrawl and, grabbing a quill, jotted back a hasty reply of '_Dinner at three, come whenever, see you soon!'_ He looked up, only to realise Bowman had flown out to hunt, and he would have to wait for the proud, stubborn bird to return.

At that moment the door behind him opened.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, and James winced, looking guilty. His face was flushed with cold and he sniffed, running his fingers through his hair with one hand and unwinding his scarf with the other.

"Nowhere," he insisted.

"Where have you been, Potter?" Sirius asked in an accusing voice, and James smiled innocently. His eyes found the paper scrunched in Sirius' hand.

"Why, were you about to send out a search party?"

"Ha, ha, ha. India-Rose wants to visit, I told her that's good, and we're eating at three. Well, I would have done, but your damn bird ran off before I could write a reply. Before I could even _read_ the damn letter."

"You know he doesn't like you," James groaned simply, clambering back into bed, his coat thrown unceremoniously on the floor. "You swear too much at him, and you're far too aggressive."

"It's a _bird_, James. He's aggressive to me! Look!" he shoved his finger in James' face, where a patch of blood from the nip he'd received had dried to a crust. James hummed half sympathetically. Sirius' eyes flicked from his best friend, to the armchair, and back again. "Did you go out in your pyjamas?"

James nodded meekly. "I was only going out for a few minutes!"

"Where to?"

"The garden…I fancied a walk."

"_Where to,_ Prongs?"

"I was dropping Lily's present off," James relented after a moment's hesitation.

"What did you buy her?" Sirius asked. "And, for that matter, _when_ did you buy it?"

"While you and Jules were arguing outside that new ice cream shop, Florean Fortescue's, in Diagon Alley. You were annoyed because she told you it was too cold for ice cream and you got sulky, and you both made a scene. So I slipped off and bought her present."

"You left me with Swindon?" Sirius sounded horrified. "After what she did to me on that first night!?"

"It's not like you noticed," James replied calmly, settling snugly into his bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. Sirius, however, remained standing firmly on his feet, hands planted on his hips in indignation. "And let's not forget _you_ broke my arm in three places, fractured my ankle _and_ dislocated my kneecap that first night. You just had a cold for a few days."

Sirius huffed. "Well I said I was sorry."

James shrugged, and Sirius crept back to his own bed, leaving India-Rose's letter on the bedside table. The sun was still yet to rise and both boys stared up at the ceiling for a while, each left their own thoughts.

Sirius interrupted the calm first.

"So what did you get Lily-Flower?"

James simply tapped his cold, red nose knowingly.

"All in good time, my friend, all in good time."

* * *

"Wendy-Wendy- Wendy- Wendy- Wendy!"

With every shout of her name Amelia Dorrington bounced on her sister's stomach, causing Wendy to groan and splutter, the breath knocked from her painfully. Blearily she opened her eyes to watch her youngest sibling giggle and squeal and flounce with excitement, a stocking in her hand.

"Santa's been, Wendy!"

Wendy grinned, a bubble of laughter in her throat, and she reached over to grab Amelia and cuddle her tightly. The nine year old screeched with surprise, wriggling out of her sister's grasp, and Wendy chuckled as she released her, letting her topple to the ground where she sprawled, still grinning.

"You're hopeless, Me-Me!" Wendy cried, rolling out of bed and wrapping a dressing gown around herself. "Come on then," she sighed. "Let's get downstairs."

Little encouragement was needed to get Amelia out of the room and down to the living room where, to everyone's excitement, they found the mince pies and whiskey left for Santa Claus had vanished, as had the carrots for the reindeers.

Wendy stood back beside Josh, brother and sister slumping onto the armchair in unison and wrestling one another after it became clear they weren't both going to fit anymore. In the end, Wendy threw her legs over her brother's lap, and the two watched as their parents, curled close together on the couch, encouraging their two youngest children to see what Santa's generosity had granted them this year round.

While Amelia, entranced by the magic, shredded wrapping paper to her heart's content, Maxxie turned to his older siblings, a look of disbelief on his face as he looked back over at the grate, where the empty glass and plate remained.

"Isn't it funny," he said in a loud, snide voice, "That dad hates sharing his whisky with Uncle Greg, but he doesn't mind sharing it with Santa?"

Wendy looked ready to clout her younger brother around the ear, but Josh got to him first, pulling him close and whispering exactly what happens to mean little boys who ruin Christmas for their little sisters. Luckily Amelia was too distracted to hear, and when Josh released Maxxie, sitting back in the chair, young Maxwell's face had paled somewhat.

"Understand?" Josh asked.

Maxxie nodded mutely, returning his attention to the presents, his face suddenly all smiles and excitement.

"What did you say to him?" Wendy asked.

"Never you mind," Josh replied. "Just boy stuff."

"About the evils of ruining Christmas?"

"Yup," Josh sighed. "Every boy has to hear about it some time. Dad gave me the very same lecture when we were younger about upsetting you."

"You'd never do such a thing," Wendy said airily, ruffling his hair happily. "You're too much of a softie."

"Only when it comes to my baby brother and sisters," Josh corrected.

"Oh, of course, you're a big hard student now, aren't you? How could I forget?"

"Damn right I am."

"Got a girlfriend yet?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No."

Wendy grinned at his disappointed expression. "Don't worry, they just don't appreciate how special you are," she smiled sympathetically, patting his fringe down with her hand.

"True, I am pretty special."

"One of a kind."

"Unique."

"Exceptional."

There was a pause, the sounds of excited children filling the air, before Josh and Wendy laughed, turning their attentions to the rest of the family, smiling happily at the looks of sheer delight on their siblings' faces.

* * *

"Got a reply yet?" Brogan asked from his sprawled position on the couch.

India-Rose, who was sitting at a dining room table that was made for six but accompanied by a total of two chairs, glanced out of the window absently, then shook her head.

"Nope. Sirius won't be awake yet, but I thought James might be by now. He usually is." She sighed disappointedly. Brogan threw her a quizzical look, eyes flicking from his sister to the window.

"How did you have James' owl anyway?"

"He sent me that picture his dad's friend took of his broken arm and leg, remember?"

"Ohh yeah," Brogan grinned at the memory, shaking his head at the boy he was yet to meet, but liked all the more with every story he heard. "Nasty."

"I'll say," India-Rose agreed, and she smiled as she recalled the final photo that had been taken, which was of Juliette alternatively beating Sirius around the head and jet spraying him with water in the middle of the kitchen. She was looking forward to hearing a full explanation of the entire ordeal when she saw them later.

_If_ she saw them, she corrected herself in her head.

"If they're busy, don't worry, we can just spend the day here together again," Brogan reassured her with a smile, but India-Rose pulled a guilty face.

"No, I'll go spend some time with _someone_," she insisted. "You need to see your friends, too. We've spent pretty much all this holiday together."

"Indy, I'm a twenty-something teen runaway. Do you really think I have _that_ many friends?" Brogan asked light-heartedly, his eyes twinkling with sarcastic mirth. India-Rose twisted her lips wryly. "And in any case, Christmas is _family _time."

"Well apologies that I tend to forget you're a sorry ass, friendless loser. If it's family time, maybe we should go visit dad," India-Rose replied in a snarky voice. Brogan narrowed his eyes darkly.

"You're a funny one, you are," he muttered, and India-Rose smiled sweetly in reply. "Don't forget, we're going to Remus' house this afternoon anyway."

"Oh don't worry, I won't forget," India-Rose trembled a little. "I've been having nightmares every night since we agreed to the invite."

"It'll be fun," Brogan insisted. "I'll be there too."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" the girl teased.

"Oi! You know, I'm definitely off to visit friends now. I don't care if you have nowhere else to go while I'm out," Brogan snapped in a mockingly hurt voice. Together the brother and sister laughed, and India-Rose glanced out of the window, checking for a reply from James.

"I'll visit the Potter's," she said reassuringly. "Jules'll need sane company after over a week with the troublesome twins. And I have a surprise for one of them."

* * *

The entire living room was decorated with bright tinsel, and a tree stood in the corner, stubby and worn, but shining with glittery festive spirit nonetheless. All four members of the Evans family sat around the base of the tree, presents in their laps: the perfect image of a family Christmas. It was only marred by the icy tension, almost a physical presence, between the two young women, one blonde and one redhead. Though the coldness was ignored for the most part, and the smiles were mostly genuine.

"Here you are," Michelle said warmly, handing the traditional cups of cocoa to her two daughters. And despite the fact they were no longer little children, bouncing up and down as they threw wrapping paper around in excitement, their faces lit up, accepting their drinks and sipping hungrily.

"Thanks mum," Petunia replied with a sigh.

"Thanks," Lily mumbled.

The two sisters caught one another's eyes for a moment, but they turned away hastily, their attention on the tree and presents again.

"What was that?" Jonathan Evans asked, eyes turning in the direction of the front door, which was out of sight, as he accepted a large package from his eldest daughter.

"What was what?" Lily asked, on immediate alert at the idea of a strange noise outside.

"I thought I heard something-"

"I'll take a look-"

"No, I'll go," Lily insisted before her mother could stand properly. Her wand sat comfortably in her pocket, and she wrapped her dressing gown around herself a little more securely as she walked out into the hallway. Doubting very much that Remus would turn up randomly twice in one holiday, especially given it was Christmas Day, Lily held her breath as she opened the front door, wondering who it could be.

She was met by empty space, staring out into an empty street, which glittered with frost and a light blanket of snow.

Looking down, she saw a large box on the porch, the word _LILY_ scrawled across the top of it, with several holes drilled into each of its sides. Gingerly she picked it up, trying not to squeal as whatever inside squirmed and wriggled.

"What is it, Lils?" her mother called, and after kicking the front door shut with one foot, the redhead carried the mystery box into the living room.

She placed it nervously on the carpet before opening it, and when she peered through the folds of the lid her gaze was met by a pair of dark yellow eyes, and a mew escaped from a pair of furry lips.

"It's a cat," Petunia stated bluntly, clearly confused.

"Who's it from?" Jonathan asked, and Lily shrugged slowly.

"I…don't know."

"It has a collar!" Michelle pointed out, and Lily reached down to fiddle with the metal tag, smiling fondly as a paw batted playfully at her hands.

One the front she read _Hector_, and on the back her name had been inscribed, with a love heart underneath. Lily blushed crimson, and she couldn't help but beam as she hoisted the sandy red kitten into her lap where it settled surprisingly quickly, purring loudly.

"You'd think it knew you already, Lily!" Jonathan barked with laughter.

"There's a note!" Petunia shrieked, and before Lily could grab it, her sister had snatched it from the box and began to read in a loud voice.

"_Dear Lily…_oh, how sweet!" Petunia snickered, and when Lily demanded she give it back Petunia shook her head. "_Dear Lily…you said you always wanted a cat called Hector or I can't remember the other name, so I chose Hector. Merry Christmas Head Girl, Padfoot says hello, and Juliette sends you hugs. Love James Potter-_"

"Petunia, please!" Lily shouted.

"Petunia, give your sister her letter back," Michelle said firmly, turning to her husband for support, but Jonathan merely shrugged. He appeared quite impressed by the boy's determination.

"Wait, there's a P.S! _P.S. I know I promised I wouldn't, but I guess I owe Sirius a hundred Galleons now. Will you go out with me?"_

Lily cringed, waiting for the taunting to start, but it didn't.

She opened her eyes, which she had scrunched tightly shut in humiliation, to see her father chuckling to himself, shaking his head and ruffling the kitten's fur with two finger's; her mother was watching, as if waiting for her daughter to speak; Petunia sat with a curious gaze, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"I think you should go out with him."

A long, long pause.

"You _WHAT?"_ Lily shrieked, causing the kitten in her lap to scamper away, hiding behind the Christmas tree and meowing loudly in protest. "Why?"

Petunia shrugged.

"He bought you a cat. A _cat_, Lils. That's well, really not normal."

"And you think I should go out with someone not normal?"

"I'm off to go prepare the turkey," Michelle said pointedly. "Jonathan, coming?"

For once Mr Evans took the hint and followed his wife, leaving the two girls alone to talk before they could notice they were talking to one another properly for the first time in years.

"Well, you're not normal," Petunia said with an almost-smile on her lips. "And face it, Lily, he's all you ever talk about."

"He is not!" Lily cried, outraged by the accusation.

Petunia's eyebrows rose, and Lily blushed again, glancing first at her hands, then at her present, who was toying with a bauble that almost reached the floor, and finally back at her sister.

"Maybe I talk about him more than a lot of people."

"And you like him," Petunia pressed, looking amused.

"And I like him," Lily repeated ruefully. Petunia clapped her hands together once and laughed aloud, and for the first time in a long while there was a fondness in her eyes as she surveyed her younger sibling, whose expression was confused and embarrassed.

"Then what's the problem? _Other than_ that he annoys you," Petunia added hastily. Lily took a slow, deep breath, contemplating, though she already knew the answer – as loath as she was to admit it. Her fingers stretched as she reached over to flick the bauble, causing the cat laid beneath it to mew excitedly and scrabble at it with his tiny paws.

"He spelled Hektor wrong," she tried. "I prefer it with a K, not a C."

"That's not an excuse."

Lily pouted stubbornly, eyebrows meeting in a frown.

"He's…"

"He's what?" Petunia prodded, shifting sideways towards her sister a fraction of an inch.

"He's such a player," Lily admitted, her voice tuned downwards as she sighed. "And he's spent so much time asking me out," Her words began to spill into one another as she spoke. "If I _do_ go out with him, I'm never going to be the person he thinks I am, and then he's going to dump me, and I...possibly, _really_ like him."

Lily finished lamely with a shrug. _Like _was such a small, insignificant word, but love? Love was too much. What was she supposed to say?

"The only reason he likes me is because I don't like him," she explained. "If I followed him around, crying for an autograph and begging for a date, he wouldn't look twice at me, the same as all the other girls he's _sampled_," she snapped disgustedly. "I'm not going to degrade myself to falling for his charm, only to be tossed aside like a dirty dishcloth.

"And what if it goes wrong? Which it will. We're finally friends, and things are better than ever between…well, all of us! Even Sirius and Juliette can get along well enough. True, they still bicker like bitter enemies now and then, and according to their letter last week she tried to give him pneumonia on the first night, but even that's not like the arguments they used to have! It wouldn't be fair on them if we made it awkward."

Petunia, to Lily's horror, sniggered.

"Don't laugh, Petunia!"

"No, I'm not…" she grabbed Lily's arm before she could stand up and storm away. "No, Lily, wait! Honestly…I'm not laughing at you. It's just, well…only _you_ could think about how difficult you'd make life for other people when dealing with _your_ relationships."

Lily's cheeks reddened and she grinned guiltily.

"I think you should give it a go. If you don't, well…" the blonde shrugged.

"What?" Lily asked, looking suddenly worried.

"You'd have to give the cat back, Lily," Petunia said firmly.

Lily grinned.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to give it a go, then."

* * *

She sat in the pantry. Tilly was cleaning upstairs, and so she sat in the pantry alone.

Upstairs in her bedroom her brand new suitcase was still packed. She couldn't face emptying it, though she had known now for three days that their promised Australian Christmas-in-the-sun adventure was never going to happen.

Slowly she picked up the note she had awoken to the day before.

_Elizabeth,_

_You looked so peaceful we didn't want to wake you. Last minute arrangements have been made, and if we can get this last push, your father might even be able to run for Minister of Magic soon! Think lucky thoughts, darling. Tilly will have some dinner for you, I'll pop in around tea time to see how you're doing._

_Roberta_

_Roberta_. It was like a slap in the face. Not even _Mother_, let alone _Mum_, but _Roberta_.

Another tear slipped down Lizzie's face. On the table sat a second letter, dropped off by a ministry owl.

_Change of plans, will be staying with the Kessings overnight, still some business to attend to. Will be back home dinner time tomorrow._

_Merry Christmas sweetheart._

In a surge of anger Lizzie scrunched the paper in her hand and threw it at the wall, where it bounced lamely to the floor. At least there was a Merry Christmas, she thought to herself. In the living room, beneath a heavily decorated tree, lay a few scattered presents, but Lizzie had no plans to open them. They would sit there quite comfortably, ignored by the blonde, perhaps re-organised by Tilly in a few hours when the house elf's chores were finished.

Lizzie wondered vaguely why there was a small bubble of disappointment still tightening in her chest. It wasn't as if she hadn't expected it. Even Sirius had looked disbelieving when she had told them all her Christmas plans, and he didn't know her _that _well, did he?

In front of her sat a blank piece of parchment, an open bottle of ink, and a large peacock quill, waiting to be used.

But she knew she wouldn't.

What was she going to say?

'_You were right. I'm alone. Help me.'_

How pathetic.

* * *

When Peter awoke it was to what felt like an impenetrable silence. Nothing stirred, and he stared up at his ceiling with unblinking eyes.

He lay perfectly still for a long time, wondering what time it was, before finally reaching for his watch – nine o'clock on the dot – and slipping out from beneath his covers, feet searching blindly for his slippers and hands grasping at a jumper. Along with the quiet, a chill had settled over the house, and Peter pondered to himself as he vacated his room. Perhaps his mother had gone out?

But no, where would she go?

He found her in the dining room.

She was sitting with a Daily Prophet in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other, and before her was an empty plate, knife and fork placed neatly at an angle on top pointing away from her.

"Ahh, Peter dear," she said, and her voice was warmer than it had been these past few days. "Come have some breakfast." She indicated the large silver hot dishes that still contained slivers of bacon, spoonfuls of eggs, and some sausages.

"Merry Christmas, mum," Peter mumbled, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Peter."

She waited until he was half way through his meal before speaking again.

She folded the Daily Prophet and dropped it into the unlit grate behind her, rolling her eyes at whatever mundane article she had just finished reading. Again her warm smile was directed at her son. Peter watched with curious eyes as she surveyed him, lips parted as if preparing to speak.

"I received an owl from Mrs Nott today, inviting us over for dinner. Apparently they're having something of a party." She sounded bright, cheerful, almost excited.

Peter's heart sank, but his expression remained politely curious. "Oh?"

"I told her it was very kind of her to invite us," Marissa continued, eyes leaving her son's face to inspect a concerning chip in her nail. "But I informed her I had already made plans with my son."

Peter frowned, his brow creasing in confusion and he almost turned to look behind him, as if expecting to see some other son appear out of nowhere.

"I was thinking we could make brownies. You remember, like we used to when you were younger?"

Peter stared at his mother. A very small part of him, the intruding adult wizard in him who'd outgrown childhood delights, cringed at the prospect of a baking session with his mother. But it was only a very small part of him.

He grinned.

"Definitely."

* * *

He awoke late in the morning. The pain in his head had subsided, but he was glad the curtains remained shut. He didn't think he could quite handle broad sunlight yet, wintry and bleak as it was these days. He wondered vaguely what time it was, only to realise he didn't care.

Blearily Remus opened his eyes.

His mouth was dry, and to his relief he spied a large glass of water on his bedside table along with a slab of dark chocolate. A faltering smile stretched across his chapped lips and a groan bubbled in Remus' throat, a strangled mixture of amusement and pain.

There was a soft knock at the door, though John Lupin didn't wait for a reply,

"Hey there," he murmured gently. "How you doing, kid?" he asked as he sat on his son's bed.

"Mmff," Remus replied reluctantly, his eyes closing again. A hand rested lightly against his temple, and he shied away from the touch. He could feel his father's unease, but he couldn't yet muster the energy to move and reassure him.

"I'm sorry," John whispered, pressing his lips to his son's damp, sandy hair. "Merry Christmas, Remus."

"M'rry Ch-ssmas," Remus slurred.

"Eat some chocolate," John forced a square into his hand. When he failed to eat, John took it back and ate it himself. "See? It's edible, Remus, now eat."

Grudgingly the teen accepted another square and slipped it past his lips.

"Good?" John asked. The only answer he received was a genuine smile, but it was enough.

"I'm sorry about this, Remus," John said again. "I had a great Christmas planned out."

"Jus' f'got 'bout f'll moon," Remus stared up at his father with glassy eyes and a watery smile.

"Yep. Pretty useless, huh?"

"You're-n't s'bad."

There was a pause as John laughed to himself, shaking his head at his son. He checked his watch – it was almost midday already. It was only the second day after the full moon, sometimes it had taken as long as four days for a recovery, and normally he would more than happy to oblige, especially on Christmas, but not this year.

"You're…" He tried his best to finished sentence, but couldn't, so changed tack at top speed. "India-Rose is coming today, remember? You've got to get up, Remus," John prodded, pulling at the covers, but Remus gripped the duvet with weak, curling fingers.

"Nnnn," he insisted.

"Yesssss," John retaliated with a gentle laugh.

"Two m're days!"

"You know, most teenagers ask for two more minutes."

"Mm, w'll, am-n't mos' t'nag'rs."

* * *

The house itself wasn't particularly intimidating in size, but it had an air of majesty about it.

Or perhaps that was her imagination running away with her, given she knew they were an old pureblood family. The oak door was large and heavy looking, and she rapped three times, rolling her eyes at the sounds of a scuffle outside the door.

"_Ow, Padfoot-"_

"_Prongs, I want to-!"_

"_Both of you-"_

"_Stop it, Jules!"_

"_Piss of, Swindon!"_

"_Will you-?"_

"Will someone let me in, _please!_" India-Rose called, stamping her foot and beating her fist against the door again.

Finally the lock clicked, the door swinging open to reveal three bedraggled teenagers.

Sirius and James stood side by side, grinning full mouthed grins, their clothes ruffled. James' hair was sticking up worse than ever and Sirius' face was flushed; mischief twinkled in their eyes, hazel and grey glitters of delight. Juliette's curls were bunched to one side, and she spared one last glare for Sirius before reaching over to grip her friend in a tight embrace.

"I've been going insane!" she wailed, mockingly sobbing into India-Rose's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm here now," India-Rose patted her friend's back gently. "How is everyone? How's the arm and leg, James?"

"Oh, you know, I'm holding up," James patted his elbow, a pained expression on his face.

"Is that your friend?" a voice called, and into view pushed an older woman. Her dark reddy-brown hair was greying slightly and her warm hazel eyes and lips were lined with kind creases of many decades of laughter. "Ahh, you must be India-Rose," the woman said, pulling the girl into a warm, motherly hug. "I'm James' mum, Jacinta. Come on in, dear, out of the cold."

The inside of the house, India-Rose soon discovered, was exactly how she had always imagined a place where James Potter lived to be.

They moved straight into the living room, where on the mantelpiece that surrounded an impressively lit grate there sat a series of photos, all documenting the life of the Potter's one and only son but for the centrepiece, which was a large photograph of a much younger Mr and Mrs Potter on their wedding day.

A large tree sat in the corner, one third of which was made up entirely of tinsel, another covered in mismatched baubles, while the final third was an overwhelming mixture of both.

Jacinta, eyeing the way the girl's eyes rested dubiously on the tree, laughed, rubbing her shoulder and explaining. "They couldn't agree on the best way to decorate a tree, so we gave them a third to themselves each and let them wreak havoc."

"Sure that was wise?" India-Rose asked with a small smile, and Jacinta laughed, giving Juliette, who was standing close by as she lectured Sirius about not messing up the tinsel on the photo frames, a fond one-armed squeeze.

"It kept them happy," she assured India-Rose. "Hungry, dear? We won't be eating for quite a while – are you staying for dinner? – I was just going to make a small snack for now."

"I suppose," India-Rose shrugged, not wanting to be a pain. "Though I'm not staying for dinner, thanks."

"Alrighty then, that's fine. You catch up with Jim and the bunch; I'll go see what I can whip up."

India-Rose smiled at the playing out around her, feeling a buzz of warm contentment at the sight of the two boys tussling on the floor and Juliette lounging on the sofa. Perhaps it was the house, perhaps it was the people, though it was probably both, but the very air around them seemed to hum with a sense of family.

"Sitting down, or are you just going to stand there?" the curly haired girl asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I'll sit, thank you very much," India-Rose said, flopping down on top of her friend as heavily as she could. "How's it been, Jules? Not too hard I hope?"

"Oh, you know, as long as James is around to keep that git on a leash," Juliette lazily kicked out at Sirius, her foot connecting sharply with his backside and he howled in pain, swivelling around to slap her leg.

"Sirius Black! Never hit a woman!" Juliette ordered. Sirius smiled sweetly.

"Darling," he replied in a flirty voice. "Ice Queens don't count."

Juliette's cold, sarcastic smile was enough to make him turn back to James, but the younger boy was no longer interested in a wrestle.

"What's in the bag, Indy?" he asked excitedly.

India-Rose narrowed her eyes as she gripped her shoulder bag a little tighter. "Presents," she admitted cautiously. "That I'll give to you if you're good," she added as all three reached to snatch it from her.

"_JAMES!" _Jacinta's voice carried from the kitchen, "_Get your arse in here and help your mother!"_ James rolled his eyes.

"I am going to kill my father when he gets back home," James muttered with a smile on his face, trudging out of the living room with heavy steps.

India-Rose waited until he'd left to room before daring to ask. "Where's his dad?"

"Oh, he got called into work," Juliette said in a disappointed voice.

"On Christmas!?" India-Rose cried.

"Yup," Sirius replied, "I think I've changed my mind about becoming an Auror."

"Lazy sod," Juliette mumbled.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Don't you-"

"Not on Christmas," India-Rose pleaded. "I'm begging you." She looked from Sirius to Juliette, both of whom grinned ruefully, nodding reluctantly.

"I'm off to see if Jacinta wants any more help," Juliette said firmly. "You know, because I'm a _helpful_ guest." She shot a glance at Sirius, but he was oblivious to her sniping remarks, remaining silent until she'd left the room.

"So, what's in the bag?" Sirius tried again once he was alone with India-Rose. To his utter excitement, the girl's hand reached in to grab something, and he bounced on his knees impatiently.

"I have something very special for you," India-Rose said with a secretive grin, and Sirius' curiosity increased tenfold.

"What?" he whispered, and he watched with an eager gaze as India-Rose pulled out the object.

There was a moment of confusion before his sharp, angled face paled to a ghostly grey.

Dangling from her index finger was a dark leather dog collar, and hanging from the clip a small metal plate, engraved into which was the word _Snuffles_ in looped, fancy writing.

* * *

With all the presents unwrapped and the smell of roasting goose wafting through the house Wendy found herself stretched out across the sofa, Josh still crammed into the armchair, while Maxwell tried his best to look uninterested by Amelia's giant castle that she was building with their newly added to Lego set.

"Aww, Maxxie, don't be spoilsport," Josh teased, flicking his foot out to prod his brother in the back.

"We got Lego last year," Maxxie pointed out. He looked somewhat unimpressed, despite the fact he was struggling to suppress a smile as Amelia clapped her hands with glee and opened the new box of pieces to make use of.

Wendy's brow creased as she frowned at him. "Maxwell," she said sternly. "Be grateful."

Rolling her eyes she knelt on the floor and joined in with the castle building project. "Josh?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in encouragement. When he failed to take the hint she grabbed his ankle and heaved him to the floor, where he landed with an _oof_.

"Thanks," he muttered, rubbing his backside and glowering playfully at her.

"I think we should _all_ help," Wendy insisted, grabbing a fistful of the brightly coloured blocks and adding them to the castle wall, Amelia finishing the roof on the other side.

"Does it look like Hogwarts, Wendy?" Amelia asked proudly, leaning back to admire her artwork from a distance. Wendy examined the masterpiece for a moment, the squared off attempts at turrets, the gaps left to represent windows, and large space to be filled with doors. She smiled, looking up at her sister and nodding.

"Yes, it really does, Me-Me," she assured the young girl. "But you need another turret here," she tapped the side nearest to Maxxie.

"Why?" the boy asked, and Wendy sighed.

"Because otherwise the Ravenclaws will have nowhere to sleep, and that wouldn't be very nice of you, would it?" Wendy said in a matter of fact voice. Amelia's eyes grew wide, her lips parting in a perfect 'o' before she began scrabbling at the blocks, ordering Maxxie to help her.

At the look he received from his older sister, Maxxie obliged.

"So where do the Gryffindors sleep?" Josh asked, tilting his head to the side as if his understanding of the magical school would change if he looked at it sideways.

"I shouldn't tell. I might be revealing deep magical secrets about the castle," Wendy whispered.

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

"We're in the North Tower," she tapped a tower that had already been built. "Which means that could be the Owlery," she pointed at a third turret. "And then there are more, but Me-Me might cry if I tell her that. We'll run out of Lego."

"What's in the grounds?" Amelia demanded, having set Maxxie to work on the Ravenclaw Tower.

"Well, there's the Forbidden Forest," Wendy traced a line around the outside of the building. "And then there's the Black Lake, and the Whomping Willow-"

"The what?"

"Don't ask," Wendy grinned at Josh's bemused expression. "And Hagrid's hut, and the path to Hogsmeade." She tapped different spots as she listed, and to her amusement the youngest child sprung into action, placing green blocks in the place of trees and yellow blocks to make a path, with a pile of blue ones to create a lake.

Slowly but surely, to Wendy's perplexed delight, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was being built within the Dorrington household.

* * *

The knock at the door was loud and ominous. Or perhaps it simply seemed that way because she was on her own.

Lizzie walked down the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor, and she narrowed her eyes at the door. It was only once her hand was halfway to the doorknob that she realised she had left her wand on the pantry table.

She could hear Tilly pottering about upstairs, occupying herself as usual, and for a split second she felt a sudden urge to call the house elf down. But no, that would be paranoia to the point of silliness.

Without another moment to hesitate she grasped the doorknob and pulled open the door.

"Ey! If it isn't my chicky Lizzie!" a woman's voice cried almost instantly, and before the blonde could do a thing a woman had burst through the doorway and enveloped her in a crushing hug.

"Leiandra!"

Leiandra Harding – never _Auntie_, darling, it sounds so old! – was a tall woman in her early forties, with permanently rouged cheeks, a mass of blonde locks only rivalled by that of her niece's, a winning smile and a perfectly maintained hourglass figure. She pinched Lizzie's cheek and leaned forward to rub her nose against the girl's – never a proper kiss, darling, I'll get lipstick all over you! – before picking up her bags and slamming the door shut behind her.

"What are you doing here?" Lizzie asked, her face muscles aching as her smile widened further and further at the idea of company. (And such company at that!)

"Elizabeth, darling, look at the state of you!" Leiandra indicated the bedraggled blonde locks, the bare feet, the scruffy men's t-shirt and shorts, and the flushed face. "How has your mother allowed you to get into such a state?"

Lizzie grinned. "Oh, I don't know. She's rightfully ashamed of me. I think I'm going to be disowned," she admitted with a worried look in her face, hiding a smirk.

"Don't you worry, chicky, you can come live with me if she don't want you in her house. Where is that dratted brother of mine, anyway?"

The plainness of the woman's talk was enough to have Lizzie dancing as she led her aunt up the stairs to her usual room.

"He's at work," Lizzie hummed. "So's my mum."

"Urgh, talk about killjoy!" Leiandra spat. "Well, don't you worry chicky, you and me'll have a right old laugh while they're working, won't we? Oh, but of course, _you and I_," she corrected with a wink.

"And what will _you and I_ be doing?" Lizzie asked.

"Well, first thing's first. I'll be having a cocoa."

They waltzed their way down to the pantry, and Leiandra sat with her feet on the table as Lizzie made up two cups of hot chocolate, asking a hundred and one questions about what she had been up to, how school was, how things were with her friends, any recent boyfriends…

"Well if you ask me, I think you should be thinking about that young Sirius Black," Leiandra nodded wisely, taking a sip of cocoa. "He sounds like a nice sort of fellow."

Lizzie blushed behind her mug and drank hastily, her eyes resting on the table.

"He's just a friend, that's all."

"Aye, that's how they all start, chicky, and before you know it…" she whistled a short little tune, flicking her hand in the air and winking again.

"Honestly!" Lizzie gasped at her aunt.

"Honestly!" the woman repeated with a knowledgeable nod. "You mark my words. He's the sort of fellow you can rely on."

"He most certainly is not!" Lizzie cried, a flare of proud rebelliousness bubbling in her stomach as she joined her aunt in putting her feet up on the table. "He's the _last_ person you can trust when it comes to relationships."

"Hmm," was all Leiandra said in reply, scrutinising the teen from over the rim of her mug. "And who's is _that_, may I ask?"

Lizzie glanced down at the plain black muggle t-shirt she had conveniently forgotten to return, glad she had managed to cover up the _S.B. _woven into the right hand side of the chest.

"Anyway, enough about me, how about you?" Lizzie changed the subject, uncomfortable with where this one was leading to, "You're looking awfully tanned. Where have you come from?"

"Oh Italy, chicky! It's beautiful," Leiandra sighed, starry eyes turning out to window, as if hoping she'd still be able to see it from her seat. "Such a marvellous time, I can't tell you! We'll go some time, alright? Just us girls, and we'll have a ball, an absolute ball!" Her mug on the table, Leiandra clapped her hands together with delight. "I'll take you right the way across Europe, Lizzie-chick, and teach you more about the world than that silly school of yours."

"I like Hogwarts," Lizzie reprimanded.

"No, chicky, you like your friends at Hogwarts," Leiandra corrected, shaking a finger at her. "You don't like _Hogwarts_. And quite right, I say! Who likes school, anyhow?"

Lizzie smiled to herself, shrugging as she sipped her cocoa. The silence, as ever when Lysander Harding's sister was around, did not last long.

"Why chicky!" Leiandra cried, her mouth wide open in a delighted smile. "We should give your dear parents the surprise of their lives! When do they get home?"

"I have no idea," Lizzie admitted with all honesty.

"They'll come back this evening, no doubt. Not even my brother can avoid Christmas entirely, though Merlin knows he'd try. We'll get you all dolled up. I have some new dress robes for you from Italy, and I'll do your hair and your make-up. Oh, it'll be fabulous! They won't know what's hit them!"

At the sight of the older blonde's beaming smile, for once the idea of being dressed up for her parent's sounded appealing. Lizzie nodded with sudden enthusiasm.

"Go on and have a quick shower then, chicky, and so will I. We'll have to get cracking or they might walk in before we're ready!"

* * *

Sirius stared at India-Rose, mouth agape as he struggled to find coherent thoughts, let alone words.

"You–what–how–what–who–you–how?" he asked in a thick voice, feeling a little as if the girl had hit him with an Unforgiveable.

India-Rose smirked, the collar still swinging from her finger.

"Shall I tell you a story?"

Sirius nodded avidly, eyes wide with awe and fear.

"Once upon a time…" India-Rose began with a grin. "I couldn't sleep. It was the night after the full moon, and I was worried about Remus. I knew for a fact you and the other Muppets had been with him pretty much all day when you weren't in lessons, which is why I didn't want to go down to the hospital wing and check for myself-"

"What?" Sirius shrieked, "Why would-"

"It was the beginning of sixth year, Sirius! As much as I hate to admit it, I was still kind of intimidated by you, even then. _Anyway_," she continued before Sirius could crack a one-liner, as she could see his arrogant flirty smirk flashing on his face. "I waited up, because I thought the least I could do was wait until you got back to the common room and ask you. But only Peter got back. He reassured me that Remus was alright, and then he said you two had said something about Marauder business to attend to."

Sirius' brow creased, and a look of almost-realisation crept across his expression.

"I went to bed, but I still couldn't sleep. My bed was closest to the window, so I sat on the ledge and watched outside.

"That was when I saw something move on the grounds; something that didn't exactly blend in with the surroundings. I got up, ran down to the common room, and looked out of the window there, because it's closer to the ground, and I thought I might be able to see better.

"And right there, in the middle of the grounds, was a big black dog. It was dancing about like an idiot, and I watched it for almost a minute before it vanished into the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And when it came back out it was followed by a huge stag."

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath; he was completely caught up in the story, and fear seemed the have set itself in his eyes.

"Nu-uh," he whispered, shaking his head.

"Uh-huh," India-Rose replied, nodding her head.

"But…but sixth year?" Sirius asked, his brow puckering. "If you saw us then, why did you let me in this year?"

"I didn't realise!" India-Rose threw her arms up in the air at the frustration of her own foolishness. "Then, after Snuffles left, I remembered about seeing that dog. And then one day soon after that it just _hit_ me," she said simply. "James shouted _Padfoot_ at you, and I always knew why you called Remus 'Moony', but it never occurred to me to wonder where you got your other stupid names from. And I realised: _Padfoot_; _Prongs_. Which would mean _Wormtail _is…" she tailed off, and Sirius, knowing there was no escaping it now, complied.

"He's a rat."

"A rat," India-Rose laughed under her breath.

"Don't tell anyone." Sirius' tone wasn't ordering, or even asking, it was imploring. "You can't tell anyone." He grabbed her knee, squeezing it tightly, and India-Rose was shocked by the feverish fear in his voice.

"I won't," she promised.

"Why didn't you tell the others?" he asked.

India-Rose smiled understandingly. "Well, I-"

"So!" James cried as he entered the room, and automatically India-Rose stuffed the collar out of sight in her bag. "How about we have some sticky toffee pudding?" At the quizzical look India-Rose threw him, James grinned. "My mum's idea of a snack will _always_ involve desserts."

"Sounds good to me!" Sirius leapt to his feet, making to follow his best friend out of the room.

Before they could leave, however, he threw India-Rose one last _this isn't over _look, and then proceeded to dance his way into the kitchen, singing sticky-toffee praises at the top of his lungs.

* * *

The good day that had so surprised Peter Pettigrew did not, as he had expected, come to an abrupt end. It was early afternoon, and with brownies and cookies cooling nicely in the dining room he and his mother were relaxing comfortably in the living room.

She had left her hair down for the day, and it fell around her heart shaped face nicely, making her beautiful eyes look even bigger. This, he decided to tell her.

"Why thank you, Peter," Marissa Pettigrew smiled warmly at her son, fiddling with a mousy lock of hair and taking another sip of tea.

Silence fell between them once more, and it was not altogether uncomfortable, but it felt as if something, some presence, sat between them, preventing them from quite being mother and son.

"You have enjoyed today, haven't you?" Marissa asked, and her face showed every sign that she feared she had disappointed her only child. Peter nodded eagerly.

"Of course! It's been great," he insisted.

"You don't wish you were with your friends?"

There it was, her greatest fear – she was losing her son to his Gryffindor companions.

"No, of course I don't!" Peter answered truthfully. "Honestly, mum, it's been brilliant. We haven't made brownies in _years_."

"So a seventeen year old boy isn't too old to spend time with his old mother?" she asked, seeming almost uncharacteristically shy.

"You're not old," Peter reassured her, leaning over to wrap an arm around her.

"Only as old as you feel, your grandmother used to say," Marissa smiled to herself, patting the hand resting on her shoulder. "And she was a woman of wise words, as she liked to inform me so very often,"

"Yeah…and of course I like spending time with you," Peter insisted after a few seconds, and the flush of gratitude in his mother's cheeks made him swell with pride. It wasn't often he made his mother smile so much.

"And you know," she said with a smile, patting his cheek in a surprisingly motherly fashion. "I don't really disapprove of your friends," she explained. "Yes, I'm a little disappointed you could never get along with Lucas Nott and his friends, or that you aren't close to any of your Slytherin year group," Peter felt a twinge of resentment in his chest. "But as long as you're happy, I'm happy. Understand?"

"I understand, mum."

"And you'll always have Lucas Nott's friends if you change your mind."

Peter could feel it, the silver tongue working its way to his heart, bribing him with brownies and cookies and kind mothering words. He closed his eyes as his mother kissed his cheek gently.

"Why don't we see if those brownies are cool enough yet?"

* * *

Severus Snape was used to being on his own.

His hands in his pockets, he trudged through the sludgy frost as he made his way through the myriad of streets connected to Spinner's End. He knew he would end up in the park – he _always_ ended up in the park – but he took as many detours as possible.

After all it was Christmas; he should at least try to do something special.

The snow was finally beginning to settle rather than melt into slushy pools on the streets, and as he reached the edge of a dirt track that led to the park, the _squelch_ beneath his foot turned to a _crunch_.

He shivered a little as some melted snow trickled down his back, and he wrapped his coat a little tighter around himself.

When he looked up from the ground it was to find his usual seat on the only unbroken swing was already taken.

The girl sat in his place was small; her shoulders were hunched against the cold and from beneath her crème woolly hat trailed light red curls that were bunched around her matching crème scarf. She wore no coat, and the bottoms of her trousers trailed in the sludge that her feet were scuffing against.

Slowly Severus continued to walk forwards, and even when he was sure Lily must have heard him she didn't look up, not even when he dropped down onto the creaky lopsided swing beside her, falling into her steady rhythm easily.

"Hey," he said quietly, and Lily sniffed. "Lily?"

When she looked up, he could see the redhead had not long finished crying. Her tear tracks were starting to freeze on her cheeks.

"Oh, Lily, don't cry!" he said, and for a moment he reached up to wipe her tears old away, but he retracted his hand fearfully, stuffing them back in his pockets before she could notice.

"Hey, Sev," she mumbled, kicking the ground again.

Severus felt his face glow at the sadly fond way she spoke his name, and his brow creased with worry.

"What's wrong?"

"It's my mum and dad," Lily sighed, and Severus nodded quietly. "We had a really good morning, and then when they were cooking they started arguing like mad, and I couldn't be bothered to sit there and listen to them."

"So you thought you'd sit on your own in a park and cry instead?" Severus asked shortly.

"I'm not alone," Lily glanced back up at him, and he let a brief smile curl his lips.

"You shouldn't cry," he insisted. "Just ignore them," he waved his hand airily.

"Yeah, because it's that easy!" Lily snapped, "I'm not used to it, Severus! I'll never get used to it! They're my parents, they can't, I don't know, split up or something. And they can't argue. It's all very well you saying I should just ignore it, but I can't. I'm not like you!"

Severus dropped his gaze at her icy glare and a blush tinged his cheeks, already pink with cold. He bit his lip, wondering if it would be better to just go. But he knew he wouldn't, because he couldn't pass up an opportunity to be with Lily, even if all she was going to do was shout at him.

Suddenly a smaller hand slipped into his own, squeezing his fingers.

"I'm sorry, Sev," Lily mumbled. "That was unkind."

"No it wasn't," Severus said quietly. "It's ok."

For a while the only sound was the creak of the swings and the gentle patter of wet snow. After a few minutes Lily retracted her hand, clasping her own together in her lap once more, and Severus felt his heart deflate as he flexed his fingers, missing her warmth, though in truth her hands were colder than his.

"Merry Christmas, Lily," Severus whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Severus."

"Did you get anything nice?"

Severus didn't like small talk, but it was nice to listen to her, and he hoped she would smile if he asked, which she did. Her lips curved upwards into a shy smile, and for some reason a blush deepened her cheeks. Her glassy emerald eyes sparkled and he even began to smile himself at her expression.

"I got a cat."

"A cat?"

"Yep, his name's Hektor. James gave him to me."

Severus' expression fell, and his eyes returned to the ground. "Oh," he said in a sullen voice.

"He asked me to go out with him," Lily added after a moment, and Severus frowned.

"So? Just tell him to piss off. Maybe he'll finally get the picture."

The pause that followed his words was not promising, and when he looked up it was to see Lily's expression both hopeful and bashful.

"No," he breathed, and he wasn't sure whether or not she'd heard him.

"I think I might say yes," she confided, whispering as her smile grew.

"Why?" he cried. "After everything he's done? Why would you even consider it?"

"I don't know," Lily twisted her shoe into the brown slush, staring at the ground and pressing her lips out in a pouty smile, as if supremely proud of herself, though for what Severus simply could not understand. "He's been so nice to me recently, and he's definitely matured, and I think he might really likes me more than I thought. He got me a cat, for goodness sake!"

"A cat?!" Severus bellowed, his anger exploding before he could rein it in. "And that's the height of romance, is it? A bloody _CAT_?"

Lily shrank back, away from the boy, her expression afraid and confused.

"I thought it was nice," she murmured.

"Oh grow up, Lily. James Potter is not _nice_," Severus snapped. "I can't believe you'd waste you're time chasing after a pathetic, attention seeking, arrogant prick like him."

He clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late to retract his foolish words.

"Excuse me?" Lily hissed. "I did not _chase after_ James Potter. I never did, and I never shall!" In her cold fury she stood up from her swing and glared down at the boy. "How _dare_ you accuse me of being some, some silly little girl that worships his every move. You know I'm nothing like that, Sev, _nothing_!"

Her chest heaved as she continued to stare Severus down until finally he caved, disappointment flooding through him and eyes falling to his knees.

"I know you're not."

Hesitantly Lily sat back down; her hands clutched the metal chains at either side of her and her swinging became sharper and stronger as her feet kicked against the ground. She refused to look up at Severus, even though she could feel his gaze returning to her face.

"Lily," Severus mumbled, and he sighed internally when she didn't look at him. "I'm sorry. I just…I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Well," Lily said hotly. "I feel safer with James Potter and his band of merry followers than I ever will with friends like yours." Her tone was waspish, and Severus gritted his teeth.

"Oh, don't start on me again, Lily. I want to be your friend, you know," he pleaded. "_You're_ the one who keeps pushing _me_ away. I've tried my best to…" but his voice failed him, tailing to nothing.

Lily closed her eyes against his words, letting the cold air whip across her face.

Abruptly she came to a halt.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she whispered, and though she tried to look up she couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I really wish things were different."

Before he could grab her arm, or even call her name, she was walking away, her head bowed against the gentle breeze, her shoulders shaking with another suppressed sob.

* * *

"Well, this is awkward."

India-Rose sat with her hands clasped in her lap. They were gathered in the living room, she and her brother on one couch, and Remus curled on a bean bag, while his father finished preparing dinner. She glanced up at her brother, trying to look disapproving of his comment, but couldn't escape the fact that his words were true.

The awkwardness was all but eating them alive.

Remus smiled, holding back a laugh. "Count yourself lucky it was a full moon two days ago. It means he's being nice to me, and won't do his best to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Oh Merlin, this isn't him trying?" Brogan asked, his lips curving at one side into a lopsided smile that Remus reciprocated.

"Are you alright?" India-Rose asked.

"Evidently," Remus replied, quirking an eyebrow. She blushed, shrugging.

"Been overdosing on chocolate?" she asked.

"Naturally."

"Chocolate?" Brogan asked, eyes flitting between the pair with a questioning look on his face.

"Best antidote in the book," Remus assured him. "Works against post-full moon werewolves, dementor attacks, Quidditch accidents, smallpox, dragon pox, or the common cold. You name it, it helps it."

"You're joking," Brogan assured himself with a nervous grin.

"If you say so," Remus shrugged with a knowing smile. Brogan turned to his sister for support, but she nodded seriously. Before she could say anything, however, John Lupin returned, his smile faltering only a little as he set the table that sprung out from the wall at the wave of his wand, the dishes that followed him in midair settling themselves down.

"Everyone take a seat," he offered, gesturing the chairs.

Once assembled there was a thick silence as food was served, and India-Rose could hear, somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice praying for the ground to swallow her up and never spit her back out again.

They ate in the same silence, and try as she might she physically couldn't look up from her plate.

"So, Brogan, you're India-Rose's brother."

It was a fairly generic statement, but it was all John had as a conversation opener.

"Yep," Brogan replied, patting India-Rose's shoulder briefly.

"And, what do you do?"

Brogan paused, as if considering.

"Odd jobs," he finally chose as his response. "You know, here and there. I travel a lot of the time. I just got back from a trip to Greenland."

For a second India-Rose blushed as she thought she was going to snort into her plate, but she managed to contain herself just in time.

"I see," John replied. "And India-Rose-" the girl looked up sharply, hoping her expression didn't convey any of the fear that was gnawing at her insides. This was the first time he had spoken directly to her. "What do you plan on doing?"

Such an obvious question. The one everyone asks. But then again, John really didn't have much to go on.

"I'm not too sure, really," India-Rose replied with an internal cringe, knowing it couldn't sound good that one sibling didn't know what she wanted at virtually the end of her educational career, while the other didn't even have a solid profession.

She hoped John Lupin wasn't one for judging by first impressions, or she was screwed.

"I study Ancient Runes, and I find it quite interesting. And I like languages, so maybe something in translation?"

"Oh, very interesting," John nodded, and a tiny wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he pondered what should be said next.

And still the quiet stretched on, the only sounds the occasional clang of cutlery on the plate, the thud of glasses being placed back on coasters, and the laboured chewing of four mouths.

Remus could feel the discomfiture of the entire scenario pressing down on him. He felt the need to rescue the situation, but the longer everyone waited, the harder it became to think of a single thing to say. His head had cleared a lot since first waking up, and he had hoped things would be at least somewhat easier than this.

Apparently, however, his pious mother had been wrong. There was no higher power looking down on him. Or if there was, then that higher power clearly liked watching him squirm.

The plates were half clean by the time anyone spoke again.

"Well," Brogan sighed. "I have to say this is about the most awkward meal I have ever eaten in my entire life, John." He lifted his glass to the older man, as if toasting him. "And I've have a few awkward meals in my life, trust me."

He grinned, and there was an embarrassed sense of relief that someone had finally admitted how uncomfortable they were.

"You're right, Brogan," John nodded, and there was a laugh in his words that caused Remus to turn and stare at him, as if unsure whether this was really his father or not. "Never was the best host in the world."

"I think you're doing a marvellous job." This time Brogan pretended to tip his hat to him.

Together all four chuckled nervously, and it was like a breath of fresh air had blown into the room.

"So, what did you think of Greenland, Brogan?"

* * *

"Now, aren't you just the prettiest damn thing I've ever seen, chicky."

Lizzie looked herself over in the mirror, a nervous smile stretching across her dark red lips.

She had chosen the white Venetian cut dress robes from Leiandra's collection, with a low swooping neckline and a satin sash to pinch the floaty material in at her waist, where it rippled out over her hips, the hem tickling above her knees. Around her shoulders she clasped a crimson shawl with one hand that matched her lips and the ribbons holding her hair in a twisted bunch around the side of her neck, trailing almost to her waist it was so long. Her lollipop red heels were uncomfortable, but she daren't say anything, and she held her breath when she walked for fear of falling flat on her face.

"Leiandra," she breathed. "Wow…"

"Don't even mention it, you hear me? You're a star, darling. A real star."

"_Sweetheart, are you home_?"

"What did I tell you, chicky? They're home! Let's get going, then."

Lizzie followed her aunt out of her room, across the landing and down the stairs.

Concentrating hard as she was to make sure she didn't fall, she didn't notice the frostiness with which Lysander Harding greeted his sister until she was safely on flat ground again. And when she looked up from her feet it was to see her parents staring at her as if they were seeing her for the first time – and were not pleased with the realisation.

"Leiandra, can I speak with you?" Lysander asked.

"Don't you like it?" Lizzie asked, and something caught in the back of her throat, choking her words. Rejection washed over her, and her face fell, eyes turning to the ground.

"Just a moment, darling," Roberta smiled coldly, her cool fingers briefly pressing to her daughter's rouged cheeks. "Leiandra, that word? I'd like to join you, if that's alright."

"Lizzie's a big girl, you can't shut her out of your conversations anymore," Leiandra snapped, standing defensively in front of the girl.

"We can, and we will do if we feel it's necessary. Now, _a word, Leiandra_."

"One moment, chicky," Leiandra tapped Lizzie's nose with her finger and winked before following her brother and his wife into the drawing room.

Lizzie stood momentarily still as she tried to control her breaths, which were sharp and painful in her chest. Her eyes prickled, and at the sound of raised voices from the drawing room a tear escaped through her heavily coated lashes, trickling down her cheek.

She hobbled over to the drawing room, leaning into the door to listen.

"_She's my daughter, damnit! Look at how you've dressed her! She's looks like a fucking can-can dancer. I won't have you corrupting her-"_

"_Corrupting her? You git, Lys, you never let her breathe, damn you! She's just a thing you have to put up with, but _I_ listen! _I_ listen to her, and she _talks_ to me. Which is more than can be said for you, I tell you."_

"_How dare you speak to my husband that way!"_

"_Your husband? He's my brother, you arrogant harpy, and I can speak to him how ever I darn well please. You need to get your priorities straight, _Roberta_, or you'll find your precious little girl walking out on you!"_

"_Elizabeth's a good girl. She knows what she needs to do to succeed in life."_

"_Oh yes, succeed, always to succeed, but does she know how to love? To live? To even _like_ herself?"_

"_And I suppose you can give her everything we've so horribly '_deprived'_ her of. Is that what you're saying?"_

"_Yes, I darn well think I can!"_

"_The last person I'd want to have around my daughter for any length of time is you, Leiandra."_

"_Why? Because I let her live?"_

"_Because you can't even take care of yourself!"_

Lysander was bellowing by now, and Lizzie flinched. Before she could stop herself she swung the door open and stormed into the room, her legs trembling as she fought to keep her balance.

"Stop it!" she cried. "Stop it right now!"

Another tear cascaded down her cheek and a sob rattled in her throat.

"Elizabeth," Roberta stepped towards her daughter, but Lizzie backed away towards her aunt.

"You see?" Leiandra sneered. "She'd rather be with me. And I'd gladly take her!"

"Take her?" Roberta shrieked. "Take her _where_? What do you have, Leiandra? What happened to Italy, to your Italian man, what was his name?"

"Paulo," Leiandra supplied through gritted teeth.

"Yes, him. What about him?"

"We're no longer engaged," Leiandra said simply. "We had an argument."

"Oh," Lysander snapped. "You had an argument. And I suppose you think that's a good environment to raise a child in, is it? That's a good role model to play? I've never known you to see a commitment through in my _life_, Leinadra. _Always _running away….divorced more times than I can count on one hand; never settling down; never kept a job for more than a few months…"

"At least I'm happy!" Leiandra retorted. "And Lizzie would be too, if she came with me."

"Well she's not!" Roberta screeched. "I won't let my little girl be dragged around the world by some, some…"

"Some what, Roberta?" Leiandra asked dangerously.

"Never mind," Roberta finished, sniffing haughtily and refusing to stoop to her sister in law's level.

There was a pause in which Lizzie bit her lip until she feared she would draw blood, waiting for someone to speak. Fear gripped her heart and she knew what was coming next, but she rejected the idea, unable the bear it.

"Alright then," Leiandra growled. "If you want to raise an emotionless clone of a daughter, that's your problem. Perhaps I'll go back to the south of France. I liked it there…" her voice was distant and dreamy; swiftly she turned and stalked out of the door.

Lizzie followed frantically, pulling at her arm, kicking her shoes off as she ran up the stairs after her aunt.

"Please, Leiandra no, don't go. Take me with you! I'll go with you."

"No, chicky, I've got to go. You stay here and be good."

"Be good!?" Lizzie shouted. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked and Leiandra grabbed her unpacked bags and headed back downstairs, her cold eyes on the floor.

"See you around, chick," Leiandra patted her niece's cheek before walking firmly to the front door, which she slammed behind her as loudly as possible.

Lizzie stood in the hall, staring at the front door. A small part of her hoped her aunt would change her mind; another part hoped her parents would come wrap their arms around her and tell her it would be alright. But of course, neither happened.

Her stumbled to the floor without warning, letting out a wail of despair. Her fingers ripped through her hair, the ribbons caught between her locks, and she smudged her makeup with hard, rubbing hands.

She never did get that skiing trip in New Zealand her aunt promised her.

Or that road trip by muggle car across America.

Or the wizard diving trip in the Great Barrier Reef.

Or the weekend shopping trip in Paris.

In fact, she realised as she stared at the mascara that had rubbed into her palms, there weren't many promises that Leiandra Harding had kept. She felt a hand press against her shoulder and she rested her cheek against it, smiling weakly at the gentle touch.

"Darling," Roberta mumbled, and Lizzie felt a warmth in her stomach at the pure love in her mother's voice. "Don't make a scene. Now go and wash your face."


	15. Of Hearts Both United and Broken

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**14. Of Hearts Both United and Broken**

_**Of agreements, teasing, and a future unforeseen.**_

She had had them all listed in her head, even written them down at one point, and had been repeating each one over and over again all the way to King's Cross.

Now, sat with the Head Boy in an otherwise empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express as it prepared to leave the station, Lily couldn't recall a single one of the rules she had planned on laying down before accepting his proposal.

She couldn't contain herself at the pained, eager expression on his face, hazel eyes wide behind new square glasses, his hair perhaps a little longer than it had been before Christmas. She could see his right hand twitching, but he stilled it with his left, and she wondered if he was trying to stop his signature _hair-sweeping_ reflex. If she wasn't nauseous with anxiety she would probably have laughed.

James watched Lily with a fretful fascination he couldn't quite recall ever feeling before, probably because for the most part he had always _expected_ her to say no, would have most likely died of shock there and then if she'd ever agreed to going out with him before. Now, however, teenage hormones coursing through his veins and post-Christmas energy biting at his nerves, he felt as if the whole world would crash around his ears if she said no…

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, almond eyes hovering somewhere between his own gaze and the window behind him. It was now or never; time to jump the leap of faith, and for some reason she could hear a voice in the back of her head – since when did her conscience sound like Juliette? – cheering her on.

"The thing is," she said quietly, her tone firm. James' eyebrows lifted a little as he waited. One hand briefly left her lap, and for a wild few seconds it looked as if she was going to take his hand, or perhaps his knee, but if that was the case she soon thought the better of it, and silently returned to twisting her fingers around each other in knots.

"Did you like him?" James asked meekly as the silence stretched.

"Who?" Lily asked, bewildered.

"Hektor…" James prompted, "Did you like him?"

"Oh," – at last a smile! – James sighed with relief at the look of delight in the redhead's expression. "I loved him, James. He's perfect."

Knowing better than to ruin the moment, James refrained from replying with '_Just like you…'_

"I thought he looked like a Hektor," he explained, and his expression turned a little guilty. "Plus…I kind of forgot the other name. There was a lot of Firewhiskey consumed before that conversation, I think."

"Yes, there was," Lily agreed with a similar blush in her cheeks as she nodded nostalgically. "He's lovely, James. Actually, he helped me make peace with Petunia over Christmas."

"Your sister? That's great!"

He didn't pretend to know all the ins and outs of that particular relationship; over the last term they had enjoyed a good few conversations as they patrolled the corridors at eleven at night, but he wasn't Remus, and she still wasn't quite as trusting as he'd hoped she would be. Not yet, at least. Still, he understood well enough to know that a patch up session with her sister was a big thing for Lily.

He felt a swell of pride to think he helped accomplish this, if nothing else.

"Have you brought him to Hogwarts?" James asked, and Lily nodded shyly.

"India-Rose got him sorted. She's got my trunk, too. I told her I had some Head Girl stuff to do."

"Didn't want them knowing you were with me?" James asked, raising his eyebrows. Lily's cheeks deepened to a flaming crimson and her lips formed a perfect 'o' of surprise.

"No, James! Honestly, I wasn't-I mean I didn't-I was just-" explanations failed her, but James waved a hand airily, shaking his head as he laughed.

"I know what you mean. Don't worry, Lily."

He was trying to make this easy, trying to dispel the nagging fear in his stomach that this, all this talk, was merely gearing up to a big '_I loved the present, __**but**__...'_

Another pause, the anticipation building, and Lily knew if she didn't speak soon there was a good chance they would both suffocate from the tension that swelled like a presence surrounding them, swallowing them.

"I just have one question," Lily stated, and for the first time since they sat down together her brow creased with concern.

"Anything," James insisted, smiling in an attempt at bravado, hoping his nerves didn't show in his expression.

"It's not a joke, is it?" she asked, stumbling over her words half way through the sentence. James frowned, as if confused.

"A joke?" He tested the word on his lips, finding it bitter to the taste, like a lie.

"You're not just asking me out because I'm the only one that says no, are you? I mean," Lily heaved a deep sigh, finding it very difficult to hold James' gaze as embarrassment once more crept into her cheeks, this time a pale red. "If I say yes, it's not going to turn out you were only asking for the hell of it, is it?"

James didn't know whether to laugh or cry, be amused or insulted.

"No!" he shouted, and a look of horror splashed across his face. "How could you think that, Lily?" Dishonour burned through him; he wanted to reach over and take her hand, maybe shake some sense into her. "Do you really think I'd take all the humiliation of rejection over and over again if I didn't mean it? Come on, you rejected me in front of the whole school on my _birthday_ in fifth year."

The anecdote cracked an apologetic smile from the girl.

"Then, I suppose…" Lily said lightly, standing up to look down at the boy who remained seated, though their height difference was so great it really didn't have the same impact she was hoping for. "I'll have to find something special to wear next Hogsmeade weekend. I always think first-date impressions are important, don't you?"

She left him speechless as she exited, and she wondered whether she should feel quite so proud of herself.

Lily strolled at a leisurely pace down the train's corridor, happily trapped in her clichéd daze, but before she could find her compartment she was interrupted by a shriek, and before she could look for the source something tall, brunette and very excited bowled into her, gripping her shoulders and shaking her.

Juliette stepped back only to allow Lizzie to repeat her actions with renewed vigour. India-Rose seemed more relaxed, staying a metre away as she appraised the redhead from a distance, looking her up and down, purposefully making her extremely nervous. There was a quiet intrigue in Wendy's curious expression as she, too, kept a few paces away.

All waited for her to speak, but when she didn't, Juliette did it for her.

"Are you, or are you not, going out with James Potter?"

* * *

Steam was issuing from the Hogwarts Express, billowing in great clouds as smiling parents waved at the frosty windows of the scarlet train. The snow that had fallen thickly the night before had finally ceased, but a heavy blanket lay outside the station. The ground of the platform was slippery with ice.

Amidst the crowds of parents a blonde girl ran at full speed, staggering on the frost and holding her breath as she barely managed to keep her balance, screaming for them to wait, her heavy trunk in tow. For a moment panic gripped her as she searched desperately for an open door, unable to find one.

"Over here!" a voice cried, and she turned to see one merciful face smiling at her, beckoning for her to hurry up as he leaned out of an open doorway.

Puffing out a laboured breath the blonde jogged the last few steps, clambering up just as the Hogwarts Express began to cough and chug, the wheels turning. The boy slammed the door shut behind her and Lizzie sighed, her knees wobbling as she sank down until she was sitting on her trunk.

"Thanks," she spluttered, trying to catch her breath.

"S'ok," the boy smiled, and he reached down to pull her back up again.

"It's Jareth, right?" Lizzie asked, and the boy nodded.

"Elizabeth," he clarified.

"Lizzie," she corrected.

There was a pause and Lizzie grinned, peeking at the boy from beneath her lashes.

"Well," she mumbled. "Thanks, anyway."

"Anytime," he said simply.

She watched him walk away, still smiling until he reached a group waiting for him a little way down the corridor, when he swung his arm around a petite girl's shoulders, leading her away. Lizzie rolled her eyes at herself, picking up her trunk and dragging it away in the opposite direction.

Why did she have to fall in love with every person to show her the slightest kindness?

Looking for a distraction she peered into every compartment, and when she reached half way down the train she froze, staring at a boy and girl sat alone.

There was only a small distance between the pair, and Lizzie watched with wide eyes as they laughed together, the raven haired boy and redheaded girl. Had the trials and tribulations of teenage romance not already been playing on her mind, perhaps Lizzie would have simply seen it as Head Boy and Head Girl chatting on friendly terms. But her head was already dizzy with romantic swooning, and she sensed an intimacy between the two of them, the entire compartment oozing with private secrecy.

Lizzie stayed only a moment longer before grabbing her trunk with a newfound strength and hurtling down the corridor.

When finally she heard the distant sounds of Sirius Black and Juliette Swindon attempting to out-sing one another with a terrible rendition of the song Wendy had attempted to teach them, _Auld Lang Syne_, she grinned, storming straight into the compartment.

And sure enough there they all sat: Sirius, Juliette, Remus, India-Rose, Wendy, and Peter.

"Do you know where those two are?" Lizzie shrieked, and the others almost shrank away from her volume. After a moment to consider what she was asking, staring around at each other, two brave souls spoke up.

"Toilet," Sirius said in a wary voice.

"Talking to the prefects," India-Rose supplied.

Lizzie laughed, clapping her hands together before hauling her trunk into the compartment and shutting the door behind her. She flopped down in the seat between Peter and Juliette.

"Oh no they most certainly are _not_."

A pause followed her words until realisation dawned on each expression in turn. Sirius' face lit up with delight and he leapt into the air, dancing around the tiny space and stepping on everyone's toes, chanting _Prongs and Flower! Prongs and Flower!_

"Sirius! Shut up!" Juliette ordered. "What do you mean, Liz?"

"I _mean_ they're sat all cuddly and secretive in a compartment by themselves!" Lizzie giggled.

"What were they doing?" Sirius asked, waggling his eyebrows.

The girls threw him a look of disgust.

"You pervert, Sirius Black," Lizzie replied, though she couldn't help but wink secretively at the look he threw her. "For your information they were talking."

"Damn, he's a slow mover," Sirius shook his head disappointedly.

"Sirius!" India-Rose cried, reaching past Remus to slap the boy around the head. "Just because your friend has more respect for girls than you do."

Sirius mumbled something incoherent that sounded like "_Hardly_," but he was ignored.

"Could you hear what they were saying?" India-Rose asked.

"I don't think eavesdropping's such a good idea," Wendy interrupted, attempting to look stern, but the other girls shook their heads.

"Nahh, we want details!" Juliette rubbed her hands together conspiratorially, her eyes alight with curiosity. Wendy threw her hands in the air in defeat, appreciating the small apologetic smile Remus threw her, though he made no move to stop the chatter.

After all, Lily Evans giving in to James Potter's begging would quite possibly the biggest thing to happen to Hogwarts since Salazar Slytherin walked out on the other founders.

"I want to see!" Juliette insisted.

"Swindon, _sit_!" Sirius pointed at the seat she had just vacated. Juliette snarled at him.

"I am _not_ a dog, Black!"

She was too busy scrabbling at the compartment door to notice the way Sirius caught India-Rose's eye, a knowing look sparking between them momentarily.

Lizzie followed eagerly, refusing to miss out on a single thing, and both girls hurtled down the corridor, scrambling over, under, and past one another with all the strength they could muster. India-Rose and Wendy looked at one another.

"Should we?"

"We should."

"Be back soon!" India-Rose kissed Remus' cheek lightly before sidling past, stopping only to give Sirius another good slap around the head for wolf whistling, ignoring him as he began complaining about possible brain trauma. She considered asking him what brain he could possibly be talking about, but decided not to waste her breath.

By the time they had caught up with the first two girls Lizzie and Juliette had found Lily, crashing into her half way down the train, and Lily looked distinctly fearful at their hungry expressions.

"Are you, or are you not, going out with James Potter?"

"How the hell do you know anything about anything?" Lily shrieked, and all four girls gasped. They'd thought, they'd pondered, they'd screamed with excitement…but it seemed they hadn't really _believed_.

Not until now, at least.

"You are!" Lizzie squealed, and it seemed she was unable to contain her excitement, bouncing up and down, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders and whipping the others in the face as she danced around.

They were attracting attention, ears and noses pressing against glass to spy and eavesdrop.

Lily scowled, embarrassed, and began shepherding them back into a compartment.

"Come on, let's sit somewhere and I'll explain."

* * *

For once in his life Sirius Black waited.

Though prone to racing ahead and throwing himself head first into the drama – and he accused _Swindon_ of being nosy – he complied with Remus' wishes and remained seated: three Marauders waiting for a fourth.

He didn't take long to show his dazed, wistful face, eyes wider than galleons and expression not quite all there. James sat down cautiously as if in a dream he had no desire to wake from. He smiled at Sirius, who looked fit to burst, but held his breath.

"She said yes…"

Perhaps Sirius began bellowing with enthusiasm, or perhaps he let off a few fireworks. It wasn't very clear.

The glass of the windows seemed to quiver to breaking point with the volume, and Sirius, similarly to Lizzie in another compartment nearby, began frolicking around to tiny space, bumping into his friends and tripping over his own feet in exultation.

"How did you ask her?" Peter says eagerly, leaning over to hear James over Sirius' hooting.

"Cat," James says simply, successfully shutting his best friend up.

"A cat?" Sirius asked, abruptly taking a seat. He reached up to press a hand to James' forehead, as if checking his temperature or perhaps feeling for a bump. "Sure you haven't hit your head, mate?"

"No," James shook his head, a quiet delight in his smile. "I bought her a cat."

"For Christmas?" Remus clarified. James grinned as he nodded.

"A ginger one. It's called Hektor, like the Ancient Greek God."

"There is no Greek God called Hektor," Remus said sadly, chuckling to himself. James shrugged.

"Well, he's called Hektor for some reason."

"Well whatever the reason," Sirius sighed. "He helped you win dear Lily-Flower's heart."

"Lily," James said firmly. "Just Lily. She hates Lily-Flower."

"Never stopped you before," Sirius pointed out with a flirtatious grin. "Unless you're going to make sure you never provoke her again, in case she realises what a colossal mistake she's made in agreeing to go out with you, thus changing her mind forever…"

It was a mark of how serious the situation was that James, rather than laughing his friend's words off heartily, nodded sombrely.

"Are you telling me you plan on never having any Marauder fun again for the sake of some skirt?" Sirius asked, horrified.

"She's not skirt!" James cried, looking traumatised. "She's _Lily_!"

"And we're the _Marauders!_"

"Oi!" Remus intervened, both he and Peter ready to step in, just in case Sirius decided to try and slap some sense into his dearest Prongs. "James, remember the promise…no girls gets between the Marauders."

"And Sirius," Peter explained, "No Marauder gets in the way of another Marauder's girl."

The rules had been laid down years ago, and with reluctant grunts Sirius replied with an incoherent, _"Hmph," _and James muttered a _"Hmm_," under his breath.

Sirius glanced at James, unable to remember ever seeing that exact expression on his friend's face before today.

This was it. India-Rose and Remus; Lily and James. Where did he fit in?

For the first time in his life Sirius Black could feel himself clutching at the fraying ends of a lifestyle that was changing swiftly. The Marauders _and one_, now so hastily, the Marauders _and two_. And again, it seemed his friends were truly slipping away from him, this time not through arguments: misspoken words or cruel deeds. They were slipping away as they moved on. Were they growing out of the old Marauder life? Was it not enough anymore?

He forgot, momentarily, about Peter, sat by his side, as alone and companionless as himself.

What would happen, he thought with a jolt of panic, when they got married? He knew they would.

And what if they had kids? He knew they would want them.

And what if they no longer needed him?

He feared that day was coming soon.

* * *

Somehow it seemed they had returned to their fifth year.

Boys in one group, girls in another – all whispers and giggles and avoiding one another. Not even Remus and India-Rose had spoken since the train, so important were the discussions taking place.

Lily wasn't sure if the 'pep talks' were making her feel better or more nervous. So much anticipation and expectations….why hadn't she just said yes to him in third year? Then this would have been over and done with long, long ago.

Oh, yes, because back then he was a moron.

Was he no longer a moron? What about…she tightened her fists and stopped her train of thoughts. Never had 'The Dating Issue' seemed so stressful before today.

As she sat down in the Great Hall, their first meal back after the Christmas holidays, Lily realised she had never before been quite so terrified of the school banquet – perhaps not even the opening feast in her first year. She kept her eyes on her plate, awkwardness surrounding her like a heavy raincloud threatening to burst, and she tried her best to ignore Lizzie elbowing her every few minutes.

She could hear the boys muttering not too far away, and wanted so badly to look up and spy, just to see if James was as mortified as she. She refrained, however, for fear of being caught.

Looking across the hall she realised with a pang that eyes kept turning to her, smirks badly concealed and giggles audible amongst the usual chatter. She leant over slowly to the blonde by her side. Lizzie quietened her babbling immediately so as to listen closely.

"How many people have you told so far?" she asked shrewdly. Lizzie's pale green eyes widened innocently, round lips parting as she shook her head.

"I haven't told-"

"Elizabeth Joan Harding, I'll jinx your tongue right out of your mouth if you don't tell me right now."

"Just a few," Lizzie blurted out abruptly. "I had to, Lily! This is big news!"

"Yes, because we all know how much I love splashing my social life on the weekly Hogwarts newsletters."

"Oh! We _should_ have a newsletter!" Lizzie giggled animatedly.

"No thank you! People are not going to get weekly updates about my romantic escapades, thank you very much."

"Ooh, escapades," Juliette muttered under her breath in a sultry voice, her eyes glinting with humour as her interest sparked. She leaned across the table to listen properly.

"Not about you, you goose!" Lizzie rolled her eyes impatiently. "The whole world doesn't revolve around you, you know!"

"I never said-I just-I-" Lily stammered, but Lizzie was no longer listening.

"I mean a Hogwarts newsletter, how cool would that be? People could send in articles….we could get that cute second year in Gryffindor involved, the one with the camera. Alexandra, was it? She could take photos…oh, that would be fabulous!"

"Not now, Lizzie-Bizzie-Bee," India-Rose calmed her friend down, patting her wrist gently. "Maybe soon," she encouraged without any real conviction. Looking slightly crest-fallen Lizzie pushed out her bottom lip as she swirled her fork around in her mashed potatoes.

"I thought it was a good idea."

"Yes, well, you thought it was a good idea to tell people I was going out with James _I-Give-My-Racing-Broom-More-Attention-Than-My-Girl friends _Potter. I only agreed to one date!"

"Did you?" Wendy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lily paused for a moment. "I-I think so…I can't remember…"

* * *

"So, are you actually going out, like, Moony-Indy going out, or is it just, like, a date?"

His worries pushed to one side, Sirius was taking full advantage of his friend's flustered confusion, determined to squeeze out every last detail.

"You're such a gossip queen, Sirius," Remus muttered with a grin.

No-one commented on the fact Remus reprimanded Sirius, but made no attempt to tell James he didn't have to answer the question.

"Err, just a date, I think. I don't know!" James' breaths were getting shallower with every question Sirius launched at him, his already pale face blanching further still as he panicked. "What do you think? I mean, she said first date…does that imply there's going to be more than one? Or was she specifying this was _only_ a first date? Moony?"

"You look to Mr. Insecurity for dating advice?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"Ahem, I'm the first of us to actually have a committed relationship, and not someone to fondle in a broom cupboard, Sirius," Remus pointed out.

"I'll have you know I've had many a committed relationship, _Remus_." The use of the name Remus as opposed to Moony was for emphasis, but his words were still not taken seriously.

"Oh yes? Who, may I ask?"

Sirius considered this for a moment, panic-stricken Prongs forgotten for the time being, as he struggled to think of someone.

"Isla Darcy!" he pointed his finger straight into Remus' face as he shouted gleefully. He shouted so loudly, in fact, that the Ravenclaw girl turned momentarily to see who was calling for her, but rolled her eyes and turned away when she recognised the culprit.

Sirius, meanwhile raised his eyebrows, waiting for a verdict.

Defeated, Remus nodded reluctantly.

"Okay, that's _one_ committed relationship. You said many."

"…Alright, so one. We're even. Though technically I'm still ahead of you," he added. "Isla and I dated for almost half a year. _You've_ only been dating darling India for a couple of weeks."

He ignored the aggravated voice bellow '_India-Rose!'_ at him from down the table, the girl – eavesdropping shamelessly and not taking kindly to being called anything other than her given name.

"Okay, so I'm sure it will be a fruitful and timeless love that will last for centuries. B you aren't there yet, Tiger," Sirius reminded him with a self-assured grin.

"James, are you still breathing?" Peter asked, amused by the conversation between Padfoot and Moony but distracted by the pale shade of blue James' lips seemed to be turning.

"What? Yeah!" James insisted, sighing loudly. "I'm still breathing."

"Yes, but is Lily?" Sirius asked conspiratorially, and for a brief second four pairs of eyes turned to the girls, where Lily was shrinking away from her friends as they crowded around her. Her eyes were wide with terror and her lips were moving fast with stuttered answers to their endless questions.

"You know, it's at times like this I feel very glad to be a teenager," Sirius admitted, his words accompanied by a hearty laugh.

"So long as your life isn't turned into the punch line," James muttered darkly, though a smile curled his lips upwards as he spoke.

Too distracted by his friends, James' night consisted only of laughter and blushing, unaware of the broken hearted stares of _the ex-girlfriends_ as they realised they had lost all chances of ever being reunited with James Potter.

And he was certainly unaware of the hook nosed, sallow skinned boy at the opposite side of the room, whose black eyes watched him with a dark glare that conveyed all the envy and spite and hatred that burned in the pit of his churning stomach.


	16. The Expectations of Teenage Awkwardness

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**15. The Expectations of Teenage Awkwardness**

_**Of friends to tease, cheeks to kiss, and dreams to share.**_

"What do you think is more likely: too much blood rushing to my face so my head implodes and I die, or impaled by one of James' fan groups?"

"Aww, don't you think how she says _James_ is just the cutest thing you've ever heard in your whole life?"

Lily glared at Lizzie, who was sprawled on her bed as she watched the redhead fiddle with her robes, obsessing over a particularly noticeable crease near her waist.

"Is it just me," Juliette pondered aloud. "Or does Lilykins seem to be spending an uncharacteristic amount of time on her appearance this morning?"

"Indeed," Wendy smiled. "It's almost as if there's a particular reason for looking extra gorgeous today."

"Winifred!" Lily shrieked. "Why are you not on my side?"

But it seemed that even neutral, peacemaker Wendy was too distracted by the delight that was Lily's blush to be above such comments.

"I think Lily's boobs are looking bigger…you're actually using the bra Lizzie told you to, aren't you?"

"No!" Lily screeched at India-Rose, folding her arms over her chest to squash herself down. "Definitely the head imploding," Lily grumbled as she stalked away from the mirror. "You're going to make my brain haemorrhage."

"Ooh, what a big word for such a little thing like you," Juliette smirked, dancing across the room to where Lily sat sulking. She ran her fingers lightly through the red curls that Lily had spent at least an hour perfecting, watching them bounce happily. "Don't sulk," she commanded, pulling Lily's pouting face around to look at her. "We're your friends. It's our duty to shame, humiliate and embarrass you."

"They all mean the same thing, idiot," Lily snapped, refusing to meet Juliette's gaze as a reluctant smile crept onto her face.

"There we go, that's our Lily!" India-Rose encouraged, joining Juliette in petting their blushing redhead.

"You look marvellous," Juliette promised, giving Lily a gentle slap on the cheek that was meant to convey affection, but only resulted in another squawk of protest.

"Come on," Lizzie sighed, grabbing her bag and waltzing to the door. "At this rate we won't even make breakfast."

A hopeful expression appeared on Lily's face, as if she didn't consider this a particularly bad idea at all.

* * *

"Everyone is looking at me."

"James Potter, you have never backed away from attention in your life. Now park your sorry arse on this bench before I really give you something to be embarrassed about."

Sirius threw his best friend onto the bench at the Gryffindor table with affectionate force, ruffling his hair fondly and chuckling to himself.

James yelped, reaching up to flatten his mass of black hair down as best as he could, frowning up into his slightly overlong fringe as he felt the more reluctant tufts simply spring back up beneath his fingers.

"Did you just see that?" Sirius asked in a mock whisper, leaning over the table to Remus, who was also staring at James as if presented with some alien life form.

"I know," Remus mumbled incredulously.

"What?" James asked nervously, rubbing at his face as if worried he hadn't washed properly.

"Did you just…" Peter began, unable to form the correct sentence, his voice tailing away.

"…attempt to fix your hair?" Remus finished.

James shrank down into his shoulders a little, muttering a hasty '_no'_ and grabbing the glass of pumpkin juice Sirius offered him.

"Oh sweet Merlin," Sirius sighed. "James, I apologise from the depths of my black heart. All this time I mocked you, and it actually _is_ true love!"

"Shut up!" James snapped as his three companions burst into fits of twittering giggles, attracting even greater attention from those in the vicinity, all of whom stared disbelievingly at this new, semi-neatly dressed, _shy_ James Potter.

He felt a blush rising up his neck and he gulped down more pumpkin juice in a vain attempt to cool down the heat flooding his face.

"That's it, you just drink your juice, loverboy," Sirius slapped James on the back as he spoke, causing him to splutter. "We'll keep our fingers crossed that you don't end up wetting yourself in front of dearest Lily-Flower."

James glared at Sirius, ignoring Remus and Peter's sniggers, but his attention was pulled away from the mocking of his friends by a voice of a girl walking by.

"Good luck, James." Her voice was quite deep for a girl's, and James looked up in shock as she quirked a single eyebrow, winking encouragingly. Her gaze passed over to Sirius for a moment, lingering on his face, before waving at them both and stalking away towards the Ravenclaw table.

"What the…" James mumbled, bemused.

"Oh yeah," Sirius performed a small scale victory dance from his seat, squirming on the bench with a satisfied expression on his face. "I still got it," he crowed.

"I think she was talking to James, Sirius," Peter pointed out, not wanting to upset the boy, who had moved from wriggles to air-punching with triumphant fists.

"And I vaguely recall that the last time she spoke to you," Remus stared hard at Sirius, determined to bring him back to planet earth. "Was to inform you that, should you ever approach her again, she would hex your underwear to…you know."

The other three boys winced at the memory, but Sirius waved away this triviality with an airy hand.

"But she looked at me. That's a start, isn't it?"

"She probably only looked at you because she heard you talking about her last night, remember? You shrieked her name at the top of your voice trying to prove to me you have the capacity to be in a committed relationship for a period of time."

Sirius rolled his eyes, as if unable to quite recall the incident.

"There are like three Darcy's in Hogwarts."

"But I'm pretty sure there's only one _Isla_ Darcy," Peter said in a pondering voice, turning back to glance at Isla, who had taken her seat with her fellow seventh years at the blue and bronze table.

"Whatever," Sirius said without a care. "What was she doing talking to you, anyway?" He punched James on the arm. "You're a taken man, remember?"

"How could I forget," James groaned, pushing his face into his hands and doing his best to refrain from beating his head against the table.

"Why, Lily-Flower would be positively _insulted_ by your lack of enthusiasm," Sirius scolded. "Just you wait. Everything will turn out marvellously, you'll see…here, eat some eggs."

James sat up, staring at his friend with a perplexed expression.

"That's it…you just tell me it's going to be fine? Eat some eggs and I'll be fine?"

Sirius shook his head condescendingly, ignoring James' protests as he ran his hands fondly through his hair again.

"Actually I said marvellous, not fine. And if you don't want eggs, you ungrateful wretch, eat _something_. It will make you feel less nauseous," he explained in a soft, simple voice. "Then again," he reconsidered. "If you still feel ill, eating will actually give you something to throw up, so-"

"Padfoot, please, we're at the table!" Remus cried in alarm, beginning to feel queasy himself thanks to the incessant drumming of James' nervous fingers on the table. "Prongs, just calm down. It's…" He was about to say '_It's only Lily!'_, but decided against such a statement for fear of having the fork near James' hand being jabbed in places he'd rather leave intact. He changed tack as smoothly as he could. "…going to be fine. Don't listen to Padfoot; he just likes stirring up trouble for other people."

James, however, was too distracted to notice Sirius pull a rude face across the table, or even listen to Remus' advice, because at that moment two girls entered the Great Hall.

To both his dismay and relief, neither had red hair.

Lizzie plonked herself down onto the bench with a sigh, shuffling away from Remus to make room for India-Rose to sit down beside the sandy haired boy. They proceeded to serve food onto their plates in peaceable silence, unaware of the expectation in each of the boys' faces.

When finally they realised they had an audience, Lizzie smiled.

"She's just coming."

There was no need to clarify who _she_ was.

In unison the four boys nodded, returning to their breakfast solemnly. Remus caught India-Rose's eye and both smiled into their food, shaking their heads at their friends, Remus considering James' pale complexion, India-Rose recalling Lily's fearful expression. Sirius glanced up, and for a brief moment he and Lizzie smirked at one another, holding their breaths to keep from laughing out loud.

Suddenly there was the bustle of people hastily sitting down at the top end of the Gryffindor table, and those already seated flinched, as if they had forgotten they were expecting more company.

"Not hungry, James?" Juliette asked with a sly grin, and James shrugged his shoulders, jerking his head to the side in attempted nonchalance. His eyes drifted from the brunette to the redhead momentarily, but when hazel met emerald they both looked away hastily.

Observant eyes spying this, Juliette leaned over to Lily so as to mutter in her ear.

"You're acting like third years."

"You're making me _feel_ like a third year," Lily replied snippily, her brow puckering worriedly as she crunched on a slice of dry toast. "For Merlin's sake, I thought the kiddyishness ended in fourth year."

"It does," Juliette explained simply. "Unless you're about to embark upon the relationship of the century."

"I swear to God, Jules, you say that one more time and I'm going to shove this toast-"

"What lesson do we have first?" Wendy intervened before Lily could complete her threat, for the first time bringing everyone's attention to one thing. And even better, thought a relieved James and Lily, the _one thing_ that wasn't _them_.

"Potions," Remus mumbled.

"I've got Arithmancy," Lizzie grumbled disappointedly. "You know," she cried, turning to Juliette and Lily. "I took it to be with you guys like we were last year! Now I'm stuck on my own while you lot," she indicated the two girls and Remus accusingly. "Get to still be together. Stupid timetables." She pouted, frowning angrily at her last sausage.

"N'aww," Sirius cooed with a smirk playing on his lips. "Poor ickle Lizzie-Biz. Nobody to talk to…how do survive?"

"Barely," Lizzie snapped back, not quite hiding her own smile.

"Hope Slughorn's in a good mood," India-Rose sighed as she scraped up the last of her egg from her plate. "I really can't be bothered with his whining today."

There was a general hum of agreement as they all grabbed their bags.

Taking pity on the redhead, Juliette took Lily by the arm and led her swiftly towards the dungeons, while Remus and India-Rose took care of James.

"Free lesson?" Lizzie asked as Peter and Wendy, the only two without bags, remained sat down. "Lucky sods," was her only comment when they nodded.

"Come on, Blondie," Sirius said, yawning as he walked out of the Great Hall, arms swinging animatedly by his side.

"Hmm," Lizzie growled.

"Oh give over, it's just one lesson."

"Like you could survive one lesson alone. You don't even have one lesson without James!"

Sirius shrugged. "I'd be ok."

"Oh, I forgot, you have a magical ability to make friends wherever you go," Lizzie snapped playfully.

"It's a talent," Sirius admitted, nodding his head. "And speaking of going places…how was Australia? You don't look very tanned."

There wasn't even a hint of surprise in his tone.

"That's because we didn't go," Lizzie mumbled.

"And you didn't write to me because…?" Sirius asked expectantly.

"_You_ didn't write to _me_!" Lizzie pointed out.

They had halted in the Entrance Hall, stalling before going their separate ways.

"Err, maybe because I thought you were in Australia!"

"You _knew_ I wasn't going to get to Australia!"

"Then why tell everyone?" Sirius asked, his hands planted firmly on his hips as if wanting to appear bold and intimidating, but in truth the girl wasn't even an entire inch smaller than him. "Why tell people you were off to Australia when you knew you were only going to be let down?"

Lizzie paused as frustrated grey eyes bored into fretful green ones. Students were starting to bustle past, groaning about first lessons and reminiscing about the holidays as they jostled the stationary pair, but still they didn't move.

"I'm going to be late," Lizzie mumbled, and she stalked past Sirius towards the staircase, bumping into his shoulder as she passed.

Sirius frowned at the floor where she had been standing only moments before, and it was only when his name was called that he was jolted back to reality.

"Mr. Black!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "Is there a reason you are uncooperatively imitating one of the school statues, or do you have somewhere to be?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, waving at his Transfiguration teacher lazily and heading for the lower staircase, the opposite direction to the one Lizzie had taken.

"Yes, Professor," he muttered darkly, his thoughts elsewhere as he walked slowly towards the dungeons.

* * *

As he sat down James recalled another very different Potions lesson.

The first lesson of the day, the same as this one: their first lesson as seventh years. He had sat beside Juliette, Lily on her other side. Across the table Sirius had sat, and he remembered how they hadn't even been able to look at one another, their argument from the night before leaving them scorched and angry. He couldn't look at Lily, either.

He wondered how he had lost track of things changing so much over the past few months.

Of course, he _still_ couldn't bring himself to look over at Lily, but now he had a completely different reason…

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Black," Professor Slughorn said pointedly as Sirius strolled at a leisurely pace to his seat, now beside James and not opposite. He looked deep in thought, and barely registered that Slughorn had said anything at all other than to smile a half-hearted sarcastic grin in reply. "As I was about to say, we are now reaching preparation stages for N.E. . With that in mind I think it is high time we look, not at making perfect potions, but at how to recognise and fix faulty ones. First of all, want you all to group yourselves into pairs."

There was a brief moment of shuffling as people nodded to one another, a few people swapping seats to be beside somebody else.

"Now, let me see…ah, Miss Evans, it would seem you are very knowledgeable on the subject of love potions-"

"What?!" Lily squeaked, and she felt a sudden will to beg the ground to split open and swallow her up forever as Juliette snorted into her hand, stifling a laugh with her palm and shaking with laughter.

"You wrote a very long essay on Amortentia before Christmas, did you not?" Slughorn asked, confused by the look of pure terror on his star pupil's face.

"Oh," Lily sighed, feeling a blush rise up her neck as Juliette's shaking shoulders trembled all the more violently. "Y-Yes, I suppose I did," she stammered, her eyes returning to her cauldron. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and praying that when she opened them again the classroom, perhaps the entire school, would have vanished.

"Now, Lily, can you tell me some of the most common fatal mistakes that can be made in the process of Amortentia production?"

Lily paused, swallowing nervously. Her eyes roamed the classroom for support, but she met only expressions of either expectance or amusement.

"Errm…"

"Speak up, girl, we know you're not shy," Slughorn teased, winking fondly. But Lily couldn't rid herself of Juliette's muffled giggling beside her, or the way India-Rose watched her, teeth digging into her lower lip to keep from laughing.

"You m-must make sure your Ashwinder eggs are properly frozen…else they'll burn a poison into your mixture."

"And how do you recognise if you have added unfrozen Ashwinder eggs to your potion?"

Lily licked her lips, reaching across under the table to grab Juliette's hand and nip it hard, causing the brunette to smother not a laugh but a yelp, instead.

"It should turn pale pink with stirring, but the poison is dark blue in colour, so it will turn a shade of purple." She coughed, trying to remove the thickness in her throat. Slughorn nodded, but frowned.

"Are you alright, Lily?"

"Errm," Lily murmured again.

"Just the hormones, sir," Juliette muttered, and this time it was Sirius' turn to hold back a laugh, looking angry at himself for finding _Swindon_ funny.

"What was that?"

"I said she's not feeling too good, sir," Juliette spoke up, and a look of deep concern flashed across the teacher's face.

"Do you need to be excused, Lily? You can run along to the hospital wing if you are feeling-"

"I'm fine, sir," Lily insisted. As tempting as the idea of fleeing the classroom was she refused to back down to Juliette's taunting.

"Well, I think that's enough questioning…what Lily has done for us here is give a perfect example of…"

Lily zoned out of Slughorn's speech to turn to her friend, emerald eyes blazing.

"Don't you dare, Juliette Swindon."

"Are you daring me?" Juliette asked gleefully.

"No!" Lily all but shrieked, "I am _not_ daring you. Leave it alone, or I swear I'll hide your underwear in Sirius' bed."

Juliette's eyes narrowed.

"I take that as a challenge."

Lily groaned, fighting the urge to throw something across the room as she turned back to listen to Professor Slughorn's instructions, the slightly crueller side of her hoping that, at the very least, James was suffering just as badly because of this as her.

* * *

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Lizzie nodded, not bothering to look up as she stared glumly at the front desk, behind which sat the neatly dressed Professor Verrison, her hair scraped back into a pony tail and wide square glasses perched on her slender nose.

She didn't listened only vaguely as the woman stood and began pacing up and down in front of the blackboard, opening her lesson with a brief speech on how disappointing it was that only half of the class had managed to complete the holiday assignment.

Lizzie glanced briefly at her own feeble attempt of an essay on the magical properties of the number fifteen. The writing was spidery, verging on unreadable at times. It had been written in one day, in a vain attempt to block out the sounds of her father's angry ranting about his sister, which he had continued at any opportunity for the week following Christmas Day.

"I'm going to collect your essays in," Professor Verrison said sharply, her clipped voice sounding harsher than ever in her anger. "And if any of you attain less than an A, mark my words you will be rewriting it. Now, I want you to turn to Chapter Fourteen of _Numerology and Gramatica_. Make notes on the first two pages, and once you are finished I want a detailed chart to accompany whichever thesis you wrote for me over Christmas."

The grumbling of the students as they flicked through their books was incoherent, merely a hum of noise neither outright protesting nor enthusiastic.

Lizzie skipped through the pages one at a time, in no hurry to begin, and her eyes flicked up to the person sitting beside her. She flinched in surprise, shocked by the identity of her companion.

"Hello!" she said with a bemused smile.

"Hello there," Jareth replied, "Remember me?"

"The train, how could I forget?" Lizzie grinned. "You saved me a very long walk to school."

They smiled at one another as they fiddled with parchment and quills, preparing to write notes that held no promise of being interesting.

"I much preferred fifth year," Jareth sighed, shaking his head at the pages and pages of writing they had been asked to make sense of. "It was much easier writing about the easy numbers…six, seven, twelve…"

"What did you write about?" Lizzie asked, watching as Jareth picked up his homework to show her.

"Twenty-four," he grumbled.

"Ouch, I can literally think of nothing to write about," Lizzie chuckled sympathetically. "I did fifteen," she showed him her pathetic attempt at an essay. "I was going to do twelve, but I decided it wasn't worth the screaming hissy fit she would probably have thrown at me for picking the single easiest number on earth."

"Actually, Miss Harding," Professor Verrison interrupted, taking the papers from the pair as she walked by. "I think you'll find seven would have been the _easiest number on earth_ to write about. But yes, I can assure you the _screaming hissy fit_ will not be worth it if you ever attempt to hand in O.W.L grade work at this late stage in your academic career."

Though she spoke in a strict voice, there was a smile in Professor Verrison's eyes as she surveyed the student, who grinned innocently up at her teacher.

"Yes Miss," Lizzie replied sweetly.

Once the woman had moved on to another table, both boy and girl giggled nervously.

"You are one lucky person," Jareth muttered under his breath. "I almost expected her to start breathing out fire."

"I'd have at _least _smoke would start billowing out of her nostrils," Lizzie added, and the pair chuckled to themselves as they began scratching the tips of their quills against the parchment.

* * *

"So, how was your Christmas?" Peter asked brightly, lounging in an armchair in Gryffindor common room. Wendy was curled up in front of the grate, staring at the charred stone where a weak fire crackled and hissed.

"Oh, fine," Wendy mumbled. Abruptly she seemed to come to her senses; she dragged her gaze away from the pitiful flames to look up at the boy. "Good. Really good, actually. My brother's settled in at university, and he thinks he definitely wants to be a teacher. I think he'd be good at that. How about you?"

Peter smiled, nodding understandingly. "Yeah, me too. Just me and mum, mostly. Though Mrs Nott kept visiting." He looked sickened by the idea, and Wendy smiled sympathetically.

"Lucas Nott's mum? The Slytherin?"

"Yeah," Peter rolled his eyes nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal at all. "She kept going on and on about her darling Slytherin associates. How wonderful her son and his friends are. If I'd thought I could have got away with it I'd have probably thrown something at her."

"What about your mum?" Wendy asked. Peter simply shrugged.

"Oh, she didn't say much, really. Just kept quiet, like."

There was a pause, and Wendy returned to watching the fire with quiet fascination. She glanced briefly up at Peter, whose attention had been claimed by a book, the title of which was hidden by his fingers. Wendy wondered…

A dark worry had been playing on her mind since the New Year, after waking up from a dream that ever since she had replayed and replayed in her mind until she almost couldn't remember what she had actually dreamed, and what she had embellished and added in her obsessive worrying.

She hadn't told a soul, not even Josh, with whom she trusted everything. Perhaps she could trust Peter?

She had to tell someone…

"I almost feel sorry for James and Lily," Peter remarked before she could pluck up the courage to speak. "Left to them lot's mercy. At least _you'd_ be nice to them and get the others to leave them alone if you were there."

"You wouldn't be nice, too?" Wendy quipped with a breezy laugh and a nervous smile.

No, she couldn't tell him, she decided, her stomach fluttering with nerves.

Peter laughed loudly, throwing his head back and shaking his light brown hair out of his eyes.

"I suppose I'd try to be nice…but you have to admit, it _is_ kind of funny. James has never been scared of anything and now he's terrified of _everything_, as if he expects to get attacked or something."

"The only thing James is really scared of is Sirius making a fool out of him in front of Lily," Wendy pointed out fondly.

"To be fair, he has a good reason to be afraid of that."

They grinned, minds drifting down to the dungeons, wondering what mischief their friends were getting up to at that exact moment.

_Tell someone_ Wendy told herself, but she held her tongue, and soon their conversation turned to the next lesson, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Her chance was missed. She'd have to tell someone later.

* * *

It was with an abundance of blushing and giggles that those first few days of the week flew by, and to the poor victims subjected to the daily tortuous humiliation of their friends it seemed as if the entirety of Hogwarts were holding their breaths, even the castle itself, waiting for one of them to crack. They grew somewhat immune to the general provocation; eye contact was minimal and their ears were deaf to the majority of the taunts – and it did not go unnoticed by Lily that it seemed she had spoken less to James over the past few days than she would have done over the same amount of time had they have had a drastic falling out.

And to the dismay of both Miss Evans and Mr Potter, they realised when they awoke on the first Saturday morning of their week back that they still had another week of torture to go before their Hogsmeade date.

Friday night, however, presented one small ray of hope for their sanity.

For the first time in her life Lily found herself positively _thrilled_ that she had the last round of patrols of the corridor, and that as usual, the Head Boy and the Head Girl would make their rounds together.

So,when Friday night came around Lily slowly, hoping she wouldn't be noticed, slipped off her bed and walked towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lizzie crowed from her seat on the floor where she sat painting Juliette's nails. She had been whining since Wednesday that they never had any fun girly nights anymore, and Juliette had been the first to cave in to her nagging.

"I left a book in the common room," she replied simply.

"Or she has prefect duty with a certain Mr. Potter."

Lily cursed under her breath. How could she have forgotten? India-Rose also had a copy of the timetable.

"Ooh!" Lizzie squealed, wiggling her shoulders, unable to get up and bounce around as per usual for fear of ruining her artistry. "Have fun!"

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," Juliette said with a wink.

"Coming from you that leaves her with plenty of options, Jules," India-Rose pointed out a little snidely. Juliette narrowed her eyes, sticking her tongue out at her friend before turning back to the redhead, who still looked a little like a deer in the headlights.

"Remember now, you're the mummy of the group, Lilykins," Lizzie said warningly. "So you have to set a good example for us all. No naughty business!" she shook her finger playfully. Lily cried out wordlessly at the insinuation.

"I am insulted you would suggest such a thing!" she spluttered after a moment.

"What, that you have be sensible, or that you would be anything _other than_ sensible?" India-Rose asked in a polite voice, though her dark blue eyes glittered excitedly.

"Err…the second one," Lily mumbled sheepishly. "I'm going to be late."

"Run, run!" Juliette shouted with a laugh in her tone, and Lily grinned before jogging out of the door and down the stairs, trying her best to block out the hysterical laughter that followed her.

"_And if you see Wendy_," she could just about make out Lizzie's voice. "_Tell her she's going to let me do her toenails, will you?"_

Lily didn't even bother with a reply.

She frowned momentarily when she realised Wendy wasn't to be found in the common room, but was soon distracted from this concern by a tall boy stood at the portrait hole, his black hair scruffy and untamed and his expression shifting somewhere between worry and excitement.

Lily smiled as she approached James, for the first time all week managing a smile at the boy, despite the wolf whistle thrown their way by one of the sixth years as they made to leave the common room side by side.

"Calm down, calm down," James ordered over his shoulder with a slight grin, and he stepped aside to let Lily go first. She wondered vaguely whether this was _just James_, or if perhaps he was being extra gentlemanly to make a good impression.

They walked at a leisurely pace, and if it hadn't been for the buzzing feeling in Lily's stomach she'd have considered it no different to any of their other patrols over the past few months.

"Is it just me, or does the entire of Gryffindor House seem more excited about our date than we do?" James asked after a few minutes of silence. Lily's laugh rang pleasantly down the empty corridor that stretched out before them.

"Seems that way, doesn't it? I reckon they're probably just excited at getting rid of our shouting matches in the common room. We've had a fair share of them," she sighed, and James grinned.

He had to admit, he was looking forward to that, too.

They took a left, leading to the staircase that would take them down to the sixth floor. They meandered without taking in their surroundings other than the floor at their own pace, still a little too shy to look up at one another.

"You know, I'll almost be _relieved_ next weekend," James admitted. "But I'm a bit worried Sirius is going to stalk us all day."

"I suppose it's lucky he and Juliette _don't_ get along, else they'd have one huge plan of action ready."

"Still, he and Lizzie might be planning something."

"What makes you say that?" asked Lily, secretly glad of the excuse to look up into the boy's face. James had the decency to not acknowledge the shy, unconscious smile that crept onto her face as he looked over at her.

"You know; peas in a pod, those two."

"I thought that was you and Sirius," Lily teased. She considered this as James made a noncommittal noise of agreement. "What do you mean, _those_ two? I wouldn't have thought they were _that_ close."

"Now, now, Lily," James shook his head at the girl, his voice dripping with condescension. "We had this very same discussion about dear Moony and India-Rose, and who won that bet?" he asked. "Actually, you _still_ owe me those ten Galleons."

"Oh, I'll buy us some drinks next weekend," Lily said, waving her hand in the air distractedly. "Don't tell me you think…not Lizzie, she's…she's far too…" her voice faltered. James frowned in deep thought.

"_Too good_ for my best friend?" His voice was light with an air of perplexed amusement, but his frowning eyes were defensive.

"No!" Lily insisted. "No, not at all. I just wouldn't have thought he'd like her, to be honest."

"Neither would I," James shrugged. "But you should have seen them hug on the platform before we left before Christmas."

"Really?" Lily asked, her voice thoughtful. She bit her lip, trying to imagine the pair together. "Well, you never know, maybe we could set them on a date of their own. At least that would keep them off our backs for the day."

"Ha!" James cried. "They'd probably consider stalking us as a good way to spend their own date," he pointed out, at which Lily looked pained.

"Yes, I suppose you're right; damn those two nosy pests," she shook her head disappointedly, eyes returning to the floor.

The Head Boy and Girl both smiled to themselves, comforted by the ease of their conversation, neither wishing to break the 'natural' spell they had fallen under, with room to breathe after a week of bullying and mocking from their so-called 'friends'.

* * *

Remus lay on top of the covers of his bed, a book in one hand and an apple in the other, perfectly happy in his solitude. With Peter in the common room, Sirius somewhere out of the way, and James on his prefect rounds – Remus had refrained from informing Sirius of this, deciding for the first time to be merciful to the Head Boy – he was looking forward to a night without interruptions.

This peace, however, did not last.

The sound of nearing footsteps caused him to groan, but glancing up as the door opened he smiled at India-Rose, who wore a guilty mask as she ran over to him, throwing herself by his side and sneaking under his covers.

"What's the matter?" he asked, and India-Rose giggled.

"Lizzie was hinting at pestering me to let her cover me in paint, so I ran off."

"And you don't think this is the first place she'll look for you?" Remus asked, brow puckering in fond confusion.

"Probably," India-Rose nodded. "But she's still painting Jules, so she'll be a while. Thought I'd come keep you company." She smiled, removing one arm from under the duvet only long enough to take the apple out of her boyfriend's hand and take a large bite out of it.

"Excuse me!" Remus cried, taking it back from her and eating another bite. "Go get your own apple."

"Hmmph," India-Rose sighed, curling up into Remus' side as he shifted to join her under the covers. "You know," the girl said quietly, reaching up to tap Remus lightly on the lips with a gentle smile on her face. "I know what we could do…" she said, her voice trailing away, but Remus hook his head firmly.

"Nu-uh," he said.

"What?" India-Rose cried, feeling very rejected and pouting, throwing the boy her best puppy dog eyes.

"Not while I have idea where Sirius is, meaning he could walk back in at any moment," Remus explained, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tight hug instead. Her face buried inti her boyfriend's chest, India-Rose sighed grumpily.

"Fine. Is this what our relationship is going to revolve around? Accommodating to the Marauders' time schedule?" she asked with a lonely sigh.

"'Fraid so," Remus consoled her with a kiss on the forehead.

"Should have warned Lily to stay away," the brunette muttered darkly.

Remus laughed huskily, and they lay in silence for a while, limbs entwined, listening to one another's slow, steady breathing. He smiled as he felt the girl shift to rest her head on his collarbone, her eyelashes tickling his neck, and he felt a sudden wave of disbelief at the familiarity of it, the natural warmth of skin on skin as if they had known it their whole lives, though truthfully they'd not yet been dating for a month.

"Brogan found a job yet?" he asked after a while. India-Rose sighed deeply.

"Has he ever?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest. "He's looking into getting something at the Leaky Cauldron, I think. At least, that's what he said before I came back to school. Because, you know, that's the sort of workers we are, us Norrell kids. Real classy," she muttered. Remus smiled sadly. "Mum was crap with jobs, too, dad always said," the girl continued. "Same as Brogan is now. How my dad, Mr. Big Businessman, ever fell in love with her, I'll never know."

Remus could feel her shaking her head in wonder. He pulled his arms a little tighter around her and she reciprocated, snaking her arms even further around his waist.

"Where _is_ Sirius, anyway?" she asked. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably on his way to getting caught by Lily and James sneaking his way around some girl in a broom cupboard, no doubt."

* * *

Sirius sat on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, his legs dangling through the pillars of the balcony and over the edge. He'd taken his shoes and socks off, and his bare feet trailed through the air as he watched the clouds drift further and further towards the West.

He hummed tunelessly to himself, drinking in the night sky without much thought for anything beyond the soft breeze whispering through the trees so far below. When finally he was interrupted, it was by a gentle laugh, and his shriek of surprise pierced the peaceful air violently.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Isla Darcy shrugged as she joined him on the floor, her feet already bare.

"I still come up here now and again. Thought I'd probably find you here, after seeing you today."

"Do I come across as that sentimental?" Sirius sneered in a sarcastic twang as he quirked a mocking single eyebrow.

"You're here, aren't you?" Isla replied with a sly grin.

"Very funny," Sirius muttered, but he kept his eyes on the girl's face nonetheless, even as she turned to look out over the darkening horizon.

She hadn't changed much over the past year or so. Her hair as still jet black and straight, though it was chopped short now, the lengths varying and uneven, with a heavy fringe resting above her enchanting eyes, one blue and one green, and there was still not so much as a freckle in sight. Her slight frame appeared bolder, all sharp curves and straight lines as she sat on the floor watching the stars above her twinkle and shine.

Sirius quickly wiped the growing smile from his expression before she could see it.

"So, you just miss me that much, do you?" he asked, his voice coloured with an old arrogance.

"I suppose so, sometimes," Isla shrugged.

"What was with the talking to James today?" he asked, genuinely interested, and she smiled. He realised, as he watched her, that her smile hadn't changed either, still never quite showing any of her teeth as her lips curled upwards.

"Oh, he looked kind of anxious."

"So you decided to make him feel even more nervous?"

"Yup," she said proudly. "Thought I may as well try and get him back for the whole jinxing my underwear to glow under my clothes thing," she shrugged, her anger at the boy's tricks long cooled to a stern amusement.

"You kind of deserved it," Sirius said in a self-assuring voice.

"You kind of should be able to stick up for yourself and not leave it to your best friend to get back at your ex," she retorted, though she didn't sound annoyed, closer to entertained instead. Sirius frowned, finally looking back down at the grounds, away from the girl. "Why were you talking about me last night?" she demanded, changing the subject before Sirius could continue the conversation.

"Oh, Remus didn't believe I'd ever been in a committed relationship."

"And you consider our relationship to be committed?" she asked with a bubble of laughter in her voice.

"Yes," Sirius cried.

"Sirius, darling," Isla sighed patronisingly, "You hexed my best friend into a pig and jet hosed him with mud because you thought I was cheating on you with him."

Sirius paused, considering this.

"I was justified," he said firmly, "He's popular; he's good looking-"

"You _knew_ I wasn't!" Isla cried, rolling her eyes. Sirius frowned.

"That's no excuse."

"Sirius…never mind," Isla shook her head disappointingly, her dangerously mesmerising eyes turning away from him with cold irritation. The boy's posture slumped somewhat, and he wrenched his gaze back to the open air. Isla frowned at the trouble in his face, and she muttered something indistinct under her breath before exhaling loudly. "So, you were reminiscing about the good old days, huh?"

"Guess so," Sirius replied, "Happy times."

"You know, if you hadn't been quite so idiotic," Isla said quietly, leaning back onto her palms and staring hard at a particularly bright star. "We'd probably still be _in_ those happy times."

Sirius turned to her sharply, looking confused.

"What?"

Isla shrugged, clambering back up to her feet and dusting herself down.

"Shame, really. Guess we'll never know."

Picking up her shoes she walked away, bidding the boy goodnight, leaving him to watch her retreating back with a strange hopefulness in his expression.

* * *

"Thanks, James," Lily sighed. The common room was empty, despite the early enough hour, and for that Lily was grateful. "I wish it was a Hogsmeade weekend tomorrow; then we wouldn't have to face another week of all this abuse."

James waved his hand as if it was nothing.

"We'll let them have their fun. If it gives them delight to have us squirming in our seats, you know what the solution is?" he asked, an evil grin on his face.

"Don't squirm?" Lily replied. They laughed together, and James nodding encouragingly.

"That's right. We could even have some fun of our own, to be honest." He looked positively thrilled at the idea.

"We'll have to see what we can come up with," Lily agreed. "But, for now," she yawned, eyes on the stairs that led up to her dormitory "Goodnight James."

"Goodnight Lily."

There was a pause.

Lily held her breath as a flittering nervousness danced across James' face before he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

Too embarrassed to wait for a response he quickly turned and walked away. He was up the stairs and out of sight in a flash, leaving the blushing redhead to let out a long, lonely, very girl giggle of delight.

Lily slapped her hands against her mouth, horrified at herself for such a sound _ever_ escaping her lips, before pressing her teeth down hard on her tongue and fleeing up her own set of stairs, exhilaration burning in her expression as she began shrieking for Juliette, for Lizzie, for _anyone_, and she burst into the room without thought that they might be asleep.

They weren't asleep, of course, and both girls clapped their hands together excitedly, desperate for a good bit of gossip.

"So?" Lizzie demanded, but Lily stopped in the doorway, surprised by the emptiness of the room.

"Where're the other two?" she asked, and Juliette shrugged.

"Snooze you lose, now spill," she ordered.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Lily let out a shriek of glee before bouncing onto the brunette's bed, any number of adjectives at the ready to describe exactly how she felt in the very moment James Potter's lips met her cheek.

* * *

James ran up the stairs two at a time, proud of himself for his bravery and wondering whether or not he had imagined the enchanted giggle he was so sure he had heard Lily give after he'd left the common room.

He flew into the dormitory, ready to give a detailed account of his prefect rounds to his friends, but was disappointed to see that not only was Sirius' bed vacant, but Peter was curled up and very much unconscious, and in the third, final bed, Remus was fast asleep with his arms around what could only be described as a very happy looking India-Rose, whose eyes were also closed.

He sighed to himself, creeping into bed and deciding to sit up and wait for his best friend to return.

At least Sirius would be interested to hear his tale.

And if not? Well, he would just have to sit there and listen to it anyway.

* * *

Wendy sat uncomfortably on her feet in the Owlery, her knees numb from pressing against the hard stone as she stared at the letter in her hands.

She'd rewritten it several times over, the discarded copies now littering the floor around her. Having completed her final draft, the shortest one so far, she'd stuffed her quill and ink bottle back into her pocket and was staring at the words with hard, dark eyes that itched with tiredness.

All she had to do was slip it into an envelope, tie it to the leg of the tawny owl sat waiting beside her, and it would be done.

Her hands trembled as she licked her lips nervously, skimming through her words for one last time.

Satisfied, she stuffed it hastily into an envelope addressed to Birmingham, wrapped the string around the owl's claw, fumbling a little with her numb fingers, and petted the owl once before it took off into the night.

_Dear Josh,_

_Don't freak out about the owl, it's just a school owl. If you want to reply, just write me a reply and tie it to his leg – not too tightly, though – and if not, just tell him to go back to Hogwarts. Sorry if one of your flatmates sees him, but I needed to talk to you._

_Well, I need to tell you something._

_I had another one my dreams. It's not about you, don't worry. It's about someone at my school, one of my friends, and I don't know what to do about it._

_He's going to kill someone and I don't know if I can tell him or not. I don't know who he kills, but he kills someone, and the scariest thing is I think he __wanted__ to do it, it wasn't even an accident._

_Should I tell him? I'm afraid it would crush him, but what about if he's supposed to kill that person? If I tell him, maybe he won't kill them, and then what if something terrible happens?_

_I don't know what to do, please help._

_Love,_

_Wendy xx_


	17. Unlikely Circumstance-Peculiar Behaviour

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**16. Unlikely Circumstances and Peculiar Behaviour**

_**Of broomsticks, affairs, and next times.**_

When in doubt go to the Quidditch pitch, that was James Potter's opinion. Or, perhaps more accurately, when stressed go to the Quidditch pitch.

It was three days before his date with Lily, and James wasn't too sure how much more aggravation he could take from his friends. Or, for that matter, his fans. He could vaguely recall a time when he relished a classroom of girls erupting in sighs with one sweep of his hand through his flyaway hair.

Now, an arrogant attention seeking reflex turned nervous twitch, it was just plain annoying.

Of course, he still _liked_ the attention. Just not in such concentrated doses.

So it was that he grabbed his broomstick, a sleek handled, streamlined Peregrine Seventy-Seven, and headed out to the Quidditch pitch, oblivious to the ominous grey clouds that speckled the gloomy sky. There was still at least another hour until nightfall, but the sun had disappeared amidst rolling clouds long ago, leaving the grounds of Hogwarts to the dark shadows that loomed from the Forbidden Forest.

Not that this bothered James, of course. Flying was flying, whatever the weather.

Had he been asked at fourteen years old, he would probably have claimed flying to be good because it made him look cool, gained him a lot of attention, and it was what he was best at, therefore involved minimum work. Now, at the mature – _mature? _A distinctly Moony sounding voice scoffed – age of seventeen years James considered flying to be an excellent method of stress relief.

Then again, at fourteen he had had very little stress to relieve in the first place: no real exams, no serious relationship issues – other than pining, hormonal love for a redheaded beauty – and no concerns about the outside world. He didn't even read the newspaper at fourteen.

Now, with the crisp, sharp air slapping him in the face, occasional flecks of rain obscuring his already impaired vision, he finally found peace of mind. He was far away from Sirius' wisecracks, away from India-Rose and Remus with their sly smiles, and best of all he was, away from Clarissa Sandberg and her merry band of cheerleaders, who had taken to throwing him pained, heartbroken looks every time they walked past him.

He considered the past week as he swerved and twirled; the constant stream of bad news in the Daily Prophet, and the constant lack of reassuring news in the letters from his parents.

Sometimes, in the quieter lulls of lessons, he would find imagining being called out of the classroom to see Professor Dumbledore or perhaps Rob Morretty waiting for him, grim expression on their faces, ready to inform him that _sorry James, but_…

No, James thought to himself, twisting his broom around with an extra jerk of his hand and sweeping around the circumference of the pitch once more. There was no use in forever expecting the worst. His father had taken down countless criminals over the years, long before this Dark Lord and his troop of Death Eaters came along.

The last thing Sebastian Potter needed was a concerned son focusing on the _what ifs _of the war, instead of his studies.

He turned his thoughts to Lily, and his promise to her that this, all this, was more than _just a joke_. Had she really thought that of him? Well, he would prove to her how much he meant every word he said to her.

And Sirius, so quick to make semi-snide remarks about potential first date failures, only to fall into deep, uncharacteristic thought whenever the conversation of James' growing relationship turned into something more than a joke. Something James thought he could see what was going on behind Sirius' frown, but Sirius' uncompromising stubbornness made it so difficult…

Swerving once around both sets of goalposts James surveyed the outline of the massive castle, taking in its majesty and beauty in a fleeting glance before turning his attention in the opposite direction, towards the Forbidden Forest.

With a sudden jerk he pulled himself to a halt in the air, peering through the almost-rain to watch a figure strolling around the edge of the Black Lake, stopping to crouch to the ground not far away from the Marauders' favourite beech tree. James narrowed his eyes, and without another thought gripped the handle of his broom a little tighter and urged forwards, dipping ever lower until he was in danger of breaking his feet as they dipped and dragged along the grass.

He stopped again once he could make out the figure a little more clearly, concerned by the look of troubled exhaustion that consumed the girl's face.

"Wendy!" he called out, swinging his leg over the broom and jogging lightly over to her.

Her mop of black hair was tucked behind her ears, her wispy fringe falling uselessly into tired eyes, and she flinched at the sound of his voice.

"It's just me!" James held up his hands, as if worried she was going to hex him in surprise. "What are you doing out here?"

Wendy, who had stood quickly in alarm, shrugged, bending her knees again to crouch close to the lake, her hand reaching out to trace patterns into the inky water with a single finger.

"Just wanted to think," she said quietly, her voice as meek and shy as James had ever heard it.

"Me too," the boy gestured his broomstick.

He hesitated, wondering whether they were _good enough friends_ for him to stay and chat.

He'd never really spoken to Wendy outside of 'the group' before. She had simply always been there, another friendly face in the crowd. She wasn't as fiery tempered as Juliette, or as strong willed as Lily, or boisterous as Lizzie or even as opinionated as India-Rose. She was just Wendy, it seemed, neutral and lovely, but that was all James knew of her. The expression on her face was one of deeper troubles; something more important than wondering what Lily was going to be wearing on Saturday.

James noticed this, and for the first time realised that Wendy had looked a little more sombre for days now; he wondered whether or not her friends had noticed this, too.

He bit, his expression unwilling as his feet made to carry him away, back to the pitch. He felt guilty leaving her alone, but, while sometimes a little ignorant, the other Gryffindor girls were not neglectful friends. If Wendy was having trouble, no doubt she would have four eager ears ready to listen to her.

"James!" the girl cried out quite suddenly, and he turned back swiftly, surprised by the urgency in her voice. "I need to talk to you."

She spoke firmly, but there was a reluctance in her eyes and in the thin line of her lips that implied this _need _to be a forced one.

"What's up, Winnie dear?" the boy asked, trying to lighten the mood, alarmed when she didn't respond with the usual protests.

"It's important," she admitted slowly, eyes suddenly very interested in her shoes. She was standing again, hands clasped and pressing hard into abdomen.

"Okay," James took another step towards the girl, arms stuck by his sides and shoulders tense. "Why do you want to tell me?" he asked, disliking the tense silence they were surrounded by more and more.

"Because, well," Wendy murmured.

They were interrupted, however, by a loud, bark of a voice.

"Prongs!"

James gritted his teeth, rolling his eyes and giving the girl an apologetic look before turning to see Sirius jogging towards him, his own broomstick to hand.

"Ooh," Sirius snickered, drawing closer to the pair. "Should Lilykins be worried? Secret rendezvous by the lake…I can hear the rumour mill turning-"

"Shut up, Padfoot," James grunted, returning his attention to Wendy.

But the girl seemed to have closed up tighter than an oyster shell once more, hiding something in her eyes that looked uncannily like fear as she regarded Sirius, who grinned back at her with bemused delight.

"No, seriously, what's going on?" the newcomer asked, silvery eyes flitting between boy and girl.

"Oh, nothing," Wendy replied breezily, her lips pulling upwards into a smile that certainly didn't reach her eyes. "James was just informing me of his latest Quidditch tactics…and I was listening, even though I don't really understand much of it."

She glanced down, as if embarrassed, and James could see her using the few seconds of averted gaze to return her expression to the same 'Wendy' look that everyone was so used to: calm, thoughtful, and ever so _nice_.

"He truly is a boring sod," Sirius grinned, slapping James heartily on the back, but James was too distracted by Wendy's abrupt awkwardness to respond.

"Well, I'd best be going," the girl sighed, and she walked past the two boys without looking up, her hair falling from behind her ears and shielding her face from prying eyes. She mumbled a half-hearted goodbye, still eyeing the ground, and didn't look back, though both boys' eyes watched her for a long while.

"Strange kid, that one."

James glared at Sirius.

"Nice, Padfoot. Real gentlemanly."

"Oh, come on, Prongs!" Sirius gestured to the figure retreating up the steps into Hogwarts, now little more than a hazy shadow in the evening gloom. "You can't tell me that was normal."

"And?" James asked irritably. "No need to mock her."

"Oh fine," Sirius sighed. "I apologise. Happy?"

James didn't look particularly happy, but he nodded anyway.

"So, what were you really talking about?"

They began to stroll slowly towards the Quidditch pitch, despite the descending darkness, the only sounds besides their speech being the rustling of leaves, the shuffle of the feet on the damp grass, and the occasional patter of raindrops. They would have to return soon, risking the wrath of any teachers on patrol, but trivial matters such as curfews had never particularly concerned either of them.

James considered his friend's question for a moment. What _had_ they been talking about? He didn't really know. What he did know, however, was that whatever Wendy had wanted to say, she hadn't wanted Sirius to know about it; that much was obvious from the sudden silence and brief terror in her eyes as he had approached them.

"What Wendy said. Quidditch," he clarified. He stared defiantly back as Sirius scrutinised him with a disbelieving eye.

"Sure, sure," Sirius nodded with a smirk. "Whatever you say, Prongsy."

"Padsy?" James said sweetly. "Don't call me Prongsy," he warned in a dangerously innocent tone. "Now, get on your broom, and I'll race you to the far end goalposts."

* * *

It wasn't late, and though she had never been one for early nights Lizzie conjured no excuse for going to bed before ten o'clock. She simply stood, dodged a clawed boomerang as it made its way once around the common room in search of its master's hands, and walked towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories. She left a perfectly capable Lily to deal with the third year owner of the boomerang, giving the poor redhead something to think about other than the murderous glares of Clarissa Sandberg from across the room.

She collapsed onto her bed, her body an itching mess of restless exhaustion, and crept under her covers, still dressed. After a moment of consideration she wriggled out of her clothes and flung the school robes unceremoniously to the ground where they lay wrinkled, forgotten already.

The blonde stared uninterestedly at the dormitory surroundings, scrutinising photos as best she could, smiling at the new photo tacked to India-Rose's wall space, showing a grinning India-Rose and Remus, cheeks pressed together and laughter lines creasing their faces, one occasionally turning to kiss the other on the cheek. She frowned momentarily at the collage of photos around Wendy's bed, failing to see the appeal in a picture if it didn't _move_. She observed them with a fond, saddened gaze at the natural way Wendy seemed so much _happier_ with her family than in the photos of the Gryffindor girls together, no matter how brilliantly she smiled in an attempt to prove otherwise.

She was distracted, however, by a small mew, followed by a soft _thump_ as Hektor, their resident Tiger cub leapt up to join her. The purr rumbling in his throat tickled her fingers as she scratched at his chin, and he curled and wriggled in satisfaction, pushing his head into her stomach, his claws picking at her duvet in pleasure.

"Just don't go sticking _me_ with those, Mister," Lizzie warned the kitten playfully, tapping his armed paws gently. Hektor stared at her with bright, yellow eyes that danced with innocent fun. She smiled, leaning down to kiss his head softly, which only resulted in the scratch of a rough tongue raking its way across her jaw.

"Hektor!" she chided, nudging him, and out came the claws again, his tail swishing from side to side and he stared wildly around her, as if searching for a mouse.

Spotting one of her feet twitching at the end of the bed, the kitten was safely preoccupied by the blonde's wiggling toes, allowing Lizzie the chance to lie back and think, undisturbed except for the occasional nip at her feet through the covers.

She closed her eyes, and was surprised by how tired she was, the soft edge of sleep claiming her the moment she lay still.

It was as the deeper sense of calm settled into her troubled mind that the soft creak of the dormitory door opening startled her. She didn't move, instead waiting for the newcomer to speak, or assume she was asleep and ignore her.

"Lizzie?"

"Yes, Indy?" Only India-Rose said her name with that soft Yorkshire tone; the _ee_ of the second syllable sounding closer to a lazy _ih_.

She didn't even dispute the nickname.

"How long do you think it is respectable to date someone before you sleep with them?"

Lizzie smiled into her pillow, refusing to let go of her tickling clutch on sleep. She spoke in a slow, melodic voice.

"I've been waiting for you to jump Remus since fifth year, India-Rose. By my calendar, you're already _late_ in sleeping with him."

This answer seemed to go down well with the girl, as she didn't speak again. She waltzed silently over to the blonde, kissing the top of her head in thanks and petting her shoulder, before going to bed herself, a dazzling smile on her face.

Lizzie didn't respond to the friendly gesture. Already sleep had returned to reclaim her, and her breaths slowed and deepened, a gentle smile of her own tugging at her lips...

"_We shouldn't!" she giggles, taking another sip of Firewhiskey, turning her mischievous chuckle into a cackle of hysteria. Lips collide with her throat and she wriggles, though whether in protest or pleasure she isn't quite sure._

"_I know," the boy murmurs against her skin._

_She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. They topple onto the bed, limbs entwined, their laughter echoing around the dorm._

"_How did you get up here?" she asks, suddenly aware that there is a boy in the girl's dorm. She's drunk, but a little of her common sense remains intact._

"_Sshh, Elizabeth," he croons, too drunk himself to dream up an excuse._

"_Don't call me Elizabeth," Lizzie pouts sternly, and he pushes himself up on his palms to stare down at her properly. She looks up at him, curiously excited, an abruptly shy smile pulling at her lips._

_His grey eyes are misty._

_Alcohol? Lust?_

_She runs a finger across his left cheekbone, a high mountain carved in his sharp face, and leans upwards to kiss him, but her aim is off and in the dark her lips collide with his chin._

_They laugh –teasing, husky – and he kisses the tip of her nose in reply, before he is suddenly aware that she has turned her concentration to removing his robes._

"_We shouldn't." His protests are unexpected; he sounds surprised at himself._

"_Sirius," she says firmly, "I am very drunk," she hiccoughs, as if to prove her point further, "And so are you. This is the best excuse we will _ever _have. Are you actually going to pass this up?"_

_His reply is a long kiss as he reaches up to hastily undo his robes, slipping out of them without a second thought._

* * *

"Something's going on."

Juliette looked up at the redhead, who had thrown herself down into the seat beside her. Instinctively Lily checked to make sure Professor McGonagall wasn't in the vicinity before furthering her bold statement.

"People are keeping secrets and it's making me nervous."

"The whole world doesn't revolve around you, you know," Juliette drawled as he flicked lazily through her textbook, _Balthazar Artizoni's Guide to Human and Animal Transfiguration_.

"I know that," Lily snapped, rooting through her bag for a quill and scowling.

"What's got your robes in a twist?" Juliette asked bemusedly, her chocolate eyes skimming through the paragraphs page by page as she tried to remember what she was supposed to have read for homework.

"Right class," Professor McGonagall crowed, eyeing the handful of students that made up her class. "Today we are going to look into the most important factors of the Animagus Process."

"Are we going to learn how to become one, Miss?" Sirius Black called out, a peculiar look of delight on his face.

"No, Mr Black, you are not. I dread to think what would become of the world if you mastered the delicate art of an Animagi."

For some reason, rather than be offended this seemed to amuse Sirius, because he bit back a laugh and returned his gaze to his book.

"No, we shall not be learning how to _become_ an Animagus," Professor McGonagall continued. "But we shall be looking into what it takes to have the power and skill to be one, as well as the effects of becoming one if you were to succeed."

There was a shuffle of interest around the classroom, murmurs of excitement and faces lighting up eagerly. They'd been waiting for a lesson like this since third year, when Professor McGonagall had demonstrated her cat form for them.

"First of all, can anyone tell me something about how the choice of an Animagus form works?"

Lily's eyes flicked towards the window, where Sirius looked ready to call out again, but James grabbed his arm and shook him firmly, an unusually stern expression on his face.

Tentatively Juliette raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Swindon?"

"The animal you turn into depends on the sort of person you are. For instance, dogs are loyal, protective, sometimes playful, sometimes aggressive; so a person with a strong sense of loyalty, and playfulness, but perhaps also anger, might turn into a dog. And the breed of dog would most likely depend more upon the aesthetics of the person themselves: someone quite small and scrawny, who is very excitable might be a Jack Russell, for instance."

"Very good," Professor McGonagall acknowledged with a nod of the head.

Juliette smiled, turning briefly to Lily, who would usually smile back, but the redhead was too distracted by how absolutely hysterical Sirius Black seemed to find Juliette's answer. Even James, who was shooting his friend annoyed looks, seemed to be holding back a grin, too.

The teacher, however, seemed oblivious to the minor disruption taking place on the left side of the room. Either that or she was simply ignoring the two boys, because she continued to ask questions, sometimes elaborating on their answers.

"Well remembered, Miss Norrell. One of the most telling factors that a creature is actually a human in Animagus form is through the eyes, which often remain, at least partially, the same colour as that of the human." This seemed to gain Sirius and James' attention, thankfully, as the giggling and arm punching stopped, both heads turning to watch with uncharacteristic attentiveness. "For instance an individual with an owl Animagus form. It has all the looks of an ordinary owl, however upon closer inspection, you may see a bluish tinge to the eyes. This would be a key factor in realising that this owl is not, perhaps, an owl at all."

"_I think I'd like to be an Animagus_," Juliette whispered in Lily's ear. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Of course you would," she murmured back. "What would you be, though?"

"A dog," Juliette replied confidently. They began sifting through parchment, trying to find a new roll to begin their notes on Chapter Seventeen, as instructed.

"_Everyone_ would say they'd be a dog," Lily said bluntly.

"Why?" Juliette looked hurt at the accusation, narrowing her chocolate eyes in mock annoyance.

"Because it's like, the best animal to be," Lily replied, quietening her voice even more. She was sure their conversation was now the reason Sirius and James had erupted into fits of laughter again.

"You think?" Juliette, not satisfied with being the same as everyone else, reconsidered, biting her lip as she scrawled the title absently on her parchment. "Okay, I think…"

"A hare," Lily interrupted, her expression thoughtful as she scrutinised her friend.

"If you are implying I am horny like a rabbit…"

"If I'd thought rabbit I'd have said it," Lily reassured her with a grin. "I meant a hare. They can be friendly, but they are always wary of danger. And they will fight to the death for their kids-"

"Leverets," Juliette corrected.

"And they know when to run, but also when to fight."

"They're lonely, though," Juliette looked a little perturbed by this.

"Oh, of course, and in stories, their enemies are almost always snakes," Lily finished proudly, and the two girls snickered.

"Yeah, still…hey," Juliette looked up, wicked amusement in her eyes. "Do you think you could be a magical animal?"

"Hoping you're a dragon, are you?" Lily asked, stifling her laughter by leaning her chin and mouth against her palm, eyes still on her parchment.

"Maybe…" Juliette murmured, as if considering this to be a real possibility. "What if someone was a sea animal? Would they die if they turned on land, or just not be able to turn until in the water?"

Lily frowned in wonder, flicking through the book to see if she could find out.

"I'd see you as a dolphin," Juliette contemplated, and Lily laughed.

"Yeah, and you'd be a shark."

"Oi!" Juliette cried.

"I'd want to be a bird," Lily said assuredly, as if she had made up her mind long ago. "And you would definitely be a tiger. Oh, sorry," she corrected. "A _tigress_."

Juliette seemed pacified by this, because she finally turned her smile to her work.

James Potter and Sirius Black, meanwhile, were far from working.

Jokes aside, Sirius now looked quite uncomfortable under the curious gaze of his friend, keeping his nervous gaze on his book so as to avoid meeting James' eye. James' curiosity was impatient, however, and he grabbed Sirius' arm before the boy could start writing more than the first bullet point of notes.

"Why did India-Rose look at you when McGonagall said we were doing about Animagi?"

"We're having an affair."

"Sirius!"

"She knows," Sirius admitted, his discomfort at India-Rose's snide glances only increasing with the heated questions.

"She what?" James whispered after a moment of cold disbelief, a strange look of terror never before seen on his face twisting his expression.

"She found out."

James looked over to India-Rose who, feeling his eyes on her, turned and smiled innocently, giving him a friendly wave with the hand not clasped around Remus' beneath the table.

"We're done for," James groaned, bowing his head down to his book as Professor McGonagall walked by, her heels clicking softly on the floor.

Sirius didn't bother defending India-Rose's honour; he knew James would panic for at _least_ an hour before listening to sense.

His eyes wandered around the room, resting finally on the tall blonde girl sat alone behind Remus and his girlfriend.

James, muttering under his breath mutinously about how he was too young to be executed and too tender to survive Azkaban, had no room left in his brain for paying attention to the notes on becoming an Animagus. Still, he wasn't so distracted as to miss the direction in which his best friend had begun gazing absently in. He grinned, eyes flicking back to Lily for a moment of victorious delight.

It seemed Mr. Potter was, once again, not so oblivious in the world of romance as others seemed to believe…

* * *

It was not that Lizzie was _trying_ to be inattentive. She simply had other things on her mind.

She was perfectly aware of Lily's scrutinising stare throughout breakfast, and that India-Rose had been sneaking glances at her all the way through both Transfiguration and Herbology. Apparently, however, this wasn't enough to waken her from her contemplative distractions. She remained silent and thoughtful all morning, and it was not until she was making her way slowly across the grounds to Care of Magical Creatures, Sirius and James bounding ahead as usual while Juliette had to run all the way back to heir dormitory to collect her things, that she was pulled from her stupor.

She gritted her teeth as she frowned at the ground she walked on, snow biting at her toes. It wasn't as thick a blanket as it had been in previous years, but her ankles were well and truly swallowed in the cold and she regretted not putting on a sturdier pair of shoes.

The things she sacrificed in the name of wearing nice clothes!

Her distraction arrived in the form of a slender boy with a soft featured face, almond shaped eyes not quite blue and not quite green, with messy coarse brown hair straggling and trailing just past his ears. In his hand he held a book entitled _Seasonal Beasts of the Magical World_, and he held it out to her with a nervous grin.

"You dropped it," he said, shrugging nonchalantly as she thanked him, stuffing it hastily into her bag before rooting through her belongings to make sure she hadn't lost anything else. "Don't think so," Jareth replied when Lizzie voiced her concerns. "That was the only thing I saw."

"Well," the girl sighed, a smile brighter than had been seen on her face all day lighting up her expression for a moment as she made to continue on her way. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem…hey, Lizzie!"

She halted in her tracks, turning back with a questioning expression. "Yes?"

"I…" He paused, and Lizzie held her breath. She knew that pause, filled with a mixture of hope and anxiety. "I was wondering…are you going to Hogsmeade at the weekend?"

"Err…yes," Lizzie confessed with a guilty smile on her face, peeking up at the boy through her lashes. "I've already made plans."

"Ok," Jareth shrugged, and it seemed rejection, rather than making him shy and embarrassed, only boosted his confidence, because his smile brightened and his eyes lit up optimistically. "Maybe next time, then?"

Lizzie bit her lip, but his grin was infectious and she nodded despite herself.

"Yeah, maybe next time."

She'd never had much self restraint.


	18. Growing Up

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**17. Growing Up**

_**Of bets, plots, and revelations.**_

Having all but crawled down the country lane to Hogsmeade, the two girls crept as stealthily as possible along the main street of the village wuth their targets – a couple, arms linked, meandering leisurely along, oblivious to all but one another – a good twenty metres away from them. They wore thick coats against the cold, their outfits complete with matching scarves, hats and gloves, and their giggles were stifled behind their hands, eyes alight with mischievous excitement.

"Will you quit your snickering, they'll hear us!"

"Speak for yourself, Juli_ette_. I happen to be a very quiet person."

James and Lily, meanwhile, strolled happily down the street, stopping at various intervals to peer into shop windows. At first they had kept relatively silent, heads bowed against the blistering winds; but it seemed the worst of it was blocked by the crooked buildings that made up Hogsmeade's main street, allowing them time to stop and start at their pleasure, chatting amiably.

It was as they stood outside one of what seemed to be an infinite number of school supply shops that they were finally approached by another couple.

India-Rose, impervious to the cold it seemed, was wearing only an extra jumper to her usual attire, and she skipped, pulling Remus with her, over to them with a grin on her face, dark blue eyes shining with delight.

"Ooh, fancy meeting you here!" she sniggered, bumping her hip against Lily's.

"Are you aware that you're being stalked?" Remus asked, and the couple glanced at one another, biting their lips in shy fun.

"Oh, we first noticed them…what was it?" Lily asked.

"Three steps out of the front doors of Hogwarts?" James supplied, and all four laughed, eyes briefly finding the two girls, one blonde and one brunette, huddled together at the Honeydukes window.

"They're not very subtle," Lily confessed, and the truth to her statement was only reinforced by the eruption of excited giggles that came from the direction of Juliette and Lizzie.

"Apparently," Remus mused quietly, and India-Rose, bored with the formality, leaned over to link arms with James, too.

"Drink, anyone? Ree-Ree and I were thinking of going to the Three Broomsticks. We could make it a double date!"

Other than a scowl from Remus at the nickname it seemed her suggestion was a popular one. With a series of nods and some laughter at the thought of Juliette and Lizzie following right the way into the pub they headed towards the sign hanging above a door, depicting three overlapping broomsticks with the name below.

It was warm in the crowded pub, and the air was filled with shouting and laughing, accompanied by the clunk of glasses on wood, or clinking against one another in a toast.

Spotting a free table, somehow both couples managed to squeeze themselves around a table for two.

"Do you reckon they'll come in?" Lily asked.

India-Rose snorted.

"This isn't Wendy we're talking about. This is Jules and Liz. They'll come in."

"Actually, where _is_ Wendy?" Remus chirped, glancing around as if expecting to spy her sitting in a corner.

"No idea, she's been even less chatty than usual all week, I think-"

"Drinks, everyone?" James butted in, recalling his almost-conversation with Wendy and wondering uncomfortably whether or not she had told the other girls about it.

Unsurprisingly, all three demanded butterbeers, and he strolled over to the bar as casually as he could, dodging a group of excited fourth years who seemed to be attempting a non-alcoholic drinking game much to his amusement, winking proudly at the barmaid as he approached.

Lily did her best to ignore the admiring way the young woman, Rosmerta, smiled at James as he ordered their drinks.

* * *

"And _I'm_ telling _you_, Swanning, that I'm not comfortable with the idea!"

"Don't tell me you're going soft on us, _Reg_?" the seventh year sneered, staring disgustedly down his nose at the boy before him – an impressive feat, given they stood nearly eye to eye in height.

"I don't care what you think," Regulus Black spat. "_I'm _the Captain, and I refuse to have a murder charge on my hands because of your dangerous plotting on _my_ time!"

Gilbert Swanning appraised the sixteen year old standing in front of him. Regulus' handsome Black features were less prominent than his brother's, his grey eyes less sharp, almost blue in colour, but as he glared at the older boy, his lips set firmly in a stubborn grimace, the frown over his eyes leaving him in danger of being blinded by his own eyebrows, he looked remarkably similar to Sirius Black.

Swanning snorted almost amusedly, as if impressed by the obstinacy with which Regulus was handling his proposition.

"Regulus," he sighed patronisingly, his voice turning smooth and charming, expression easing into an elegant smile. "Regulus, Regulus, Regulus." Slinging an arm over his shoulder Swanning pushed another shot of Firewhiskey towards his friend encouragingly. There was only a handful of people scattered about the dilapidated Hog's Head pub, and they were seated at the back in a small alcove full of burnt out candle stubs and rusted goblets. "This isn't some silly schoolboy fantasy of sabotaging the Gryffindor Team," he explained lightly, as if merely describing how to correctly polish a broomstick. "This is using our extortionate talent and skill both in the classroom and in the air to do our part to let those stupid Gryffindors know that their disrespectful remarks towards the Dark Lord will not be taken lightly, and that they would do better to keep quiet, else they'll be dead before they can get two steps out of Hogwarts once their schooldays are over."

Regulus' frown loosened a little, but he didn't speak, his expression adamant.

"Winning the Quidditch match is merely a…"

"Perk?" Regulus asked disdainfully, and Swanning grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

"A perk, exactly! Now you're getting the idea." He seemed pleased by Regulus' apparent co-operation, because he continued with newfound zeal. "Snape's got something worked out, he's been on it for weeks now, and he's finally cracked it. We're going to try it out."

"You do realise this is Hogwarts?" Regulus interrupted, finally throwing Swanning's arm off his shoulder violently and stepping back to admire the stupidity of his friend from a distance. "The school which _Albus Dumbledore _is Headmaster of? If you think there's a single loophole in the security of his students' safety on the pitch when they're playing, let's face it, a potentially dangerous game, you're a fool."

The fact he was no longer outright refusing was a promising sign for Swanning, who waved an airy hand nonchalantly.

"It's undetectable, for starters." Regulus snorted, but Swanning continued over the disbelieving sound. "And you can't put too many safety spells around bludgers, can you? They stop working properly…go haywire and stuff."

"Really?" Regulus wasn't sure whether he believed him or not.

"Psshh, and you call yourself a Captain?" Swanning grinned, downing the last of his drink and making to stand up. "It'll all be fine. I just wanted to let you know what was going on. They won't suspect us, Reg. And even if they do, I swear, they'll have no proof."

Regulus stood slowly, silvery blue eyes guarded, watching the boy warily. Swanning, under the impression his job was done, smirked as he turned to walk away.

Regulus, however, hadn't finished with him, and in one fluid movement grabbed the front of Swanning's robes in a single fist, swinging around to lean him against the table threateningly.

"I'm warning you though, Swanning," Regulus murmured in a low voice, expression dangerously angry. "If you hurt my brother, I will kill you. Do you understand me?"

The brief terror in Gilbert Swanning's eyes dissipated as he chuckled under his breath, wrenching his robes out of the boy's hand and smoothing them down proudly.

"I promise," he said slickly, a note of almost gentility in his voice. "No harm will come to poor Sirius. I understand if you want to keep that delight all to yourself."

Regulus watched his fellow Slytherin saunter away, head held high and arms swinging triumphantly by his sides. The boy's brow creased a little, though less with anger and more with concern.

_Sirius will know_, a voice in the back of his head told him snidely. _He'll know, and he'll blame you if something bad happens_.

Ignoring the voice, he drained his glass of the last dregs of Firewhiskey and stalked out into the chilly January air, pushing any thoughts of his brother from his mind.

* * *

Where Gryffindor seventh years were concerned, the main room of the Three Broomsticks had been split into two: a double date at side of the room, two stalkers at the other.

Lizzie and Juliette had entered not long after the four daters' drinks had been served, much to the hilarity of Remus and India-Rose, leaving Lily and James a modest mixture of embarrassed and amused. The duo had squashed themselves onto a small bench, too busy making sure they _weren't_ seen to notice they'd already been caught, whispering and giggling and clearly having the time of their lives.

"_As long as they're enjoying themselves_," Lily had said with fond sympathy.

They half expected to be attacked at any moment, all glancing around at random intervals to see how both the blonde and the brunette were doing.

When they were finally interrupted, however, it was not by the two girls sat between two large groups of third years, the novelty of Hogsmeade for whom had clearly not run out yet.

The front door of the pub flew open, letting in a gust of howling winter winds along with two people, the first galloping at full speed, the second chasing after him with a note of hysteria in her laughter.

"Ladies and gentleman, the fun has arrived!" Sirius Black bellowed, and something more than a smattering of applause followed his announcement as fellow Gryffindors – and, James noticed with reluctant sense of impress, even some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs – cheered and hooted in reply. The bright pink circles on the top of the boy's cheekbones revealed he had already seen the bottom of at least two large glasses of Firewhiskey. "There they are!" he said excitedly, leaping over to his friends and slinging his arms around Lily and James, kissing their heads loudly. "Ooh, you are so _cute_!" he pulled at their cheeks lovingly, even slapping James' face affectionately, too.

Lizzie, sitting so close to Juliette on their tiny bench that they were forced to cling onto one another for fear of falling off, threw her head back and laughed loudly, almost swallowing a mouthful of her friend's brown curly hair in the process and Juliette tilted her head to the side.

But then a voice, deep for a girl's and yet oddly feminine, with a distinctly Scottish twang met her ears.

"_Sirius, for Merlin's sake, leave them alone, will you?!"_

Lizzie's head snapped forwards, eyes searching everywhere until she found a slender girl, hair jet black, walking with an unconscious grace towards the Gryffindors. Lizzie felt her face blanche, confusing creasing her brow.

"Is that…" Juliette began, scrutinising the girl as she stood up slightly to look over the crowds.

"Isla Darcy, yeah," Lizzie said softly. Juliette, too distracted by how annoying Sirius was being by ruining their view of Lily and James, didn't notice the crestfallen expression on the blonde's face.

She watched as Sirius began ushering Isla forwards, hand on her lower back, encouraging Lily and James as they scooted out of their seats and waved goodbye to Remus and India-Rose, both of whom eyed the newcomers with bewildered civility.

Juliette grabbed Lizzie's elbow. "They're leaving, let's go." She made to follow Lily and James out of the front door but was pulled back by her friend.

"No," Lizzie mumbled. "Leave them be. They'll have gone for a walk or something."

"So we're just going to sit here? Gosh, Liz, you sure know how to have a good time, don't you? No wonder the boys seem to fall at your feet." This seemed to stir Lizzie into action, because she gripped Juliette's hand tightly and stood up with a sudden bounce in her step that didn't quite match the hardened determination in her eyes. "I thought you wanted to stay here?"

"Not quite," Lizzie murmured, dragging her friend over to the table recently vacated by the happy new couple, where now sat one not-quite-tipsy Gryffindor, two bemused Gryffindors, and an embarrassed Ravenclaw. "Can we join you?" she asked brightly, and Sirius, eyes lifting from his bottle to the speaker's face, grinned widely.

"Sure you can, Lizzie-biz!" he cried, shifting his chair up and dragging Isla with him to make room for two extra.

"Where're Lily and James?" Juliette asked shrewdly.

"Went for a walk," Remus replied simply, pulling up two chairs.

"And, actually," Lizzie continued as Juliette sat down as far away from Sirius as possible. "Sirius…can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

"Outside?" Sirius asked hesitantly, eyeing the shivering figures stood freezing in the snow in the street through the window.

"Well, out of the way, then," Lizzie snapped lightly, and Sirius nodded. Bouncing out of his seat he followed the blonde to a quiet corner outside the toilets.

"What's up, Izzie-Bizzie-Lizzie-Bee?"

"Someone's had a few already," Lizzie muttered, the very air around the boy a hazy scent of whiskey.

Sirius, eyes sparkling brightly, shrugged. "Isla and I decided to have a little party of our own before joining you all." He shrugged nonchalantly, still smirking.

"And since when is there an _Isla and I_ again?"

Sirius, feeling a little as if he was being interrogated, took a half step back as he surveyed the girl.

"We just...got talking and decided to hang out, that's all." Again the shrug that made Lizzie want to slap him around the face.

A pause followed, the silence stretching longer, and three people sidled past the pair on their way to the toilet before Sirius broke it, uneasy under the judging look Lizzie was giving him.

"What did you want then, Lizzie?"

A slight blush appeared in Lizzie's cheeks, and suddenly she felt very foolish. What was she thinking? She couldn't _ask_ him here, could she? Even less now he had dearest _Isla_ for company…

"It's about…" she began, but she faltered. _The Christmas party,_ she said to herself, repeating it several times over but still her lips wouldn't move. _It's about what happened at the Christmas party._ "Just, leave off James and Lily a bit, will you?"

Sirius frowned disbelievingly at her.

"That's what you wanted to say in private?"

Lizzie, flustered by the charming smirk he threw her as he leaned forwards, peering into her face with rudely close scrutiny, closed her lips tightly for a moment, coughing in the back of her throat nervously.

"Didn't want to embarrass you in front of your date, that's all."

For some reason this seemed to disconcert Sirius, and his eyes flitted from Lizzie back in the direction of the table where the others sat at.

"My date?" he said slowly. "Right, yeah." He swallowed, licking his lips in a vexed manner before slipping his smirk back onto his face. "How thoughtful, but, I've done plenty worse in front of Isla," he admitted, throwing an arm around Lizzie and sauntering back past the busy bar, the blonde reluctantly being dragged along. "Half of which," he whispered at her as they approached the table. "Even _I'm _too ashamed to mention again."

As he slumped back into his seat beside the black haired girl with the lilting Scottish dialect, he failed to notice the way Lizzie glowered at him, disgust masking the hurt disappointment in her eyes.

* * *

Closer to town and Hogwarts the winds were brutal, but Lily and James found as they walked that further up the track nearer to the woodlands were quite peaceful. Lily had removed her hat, and both had taken off their gloves, even unbuttoning their coats a little. Fingers loosely linked as they held hands, other hands stuffed into their pockets for warmth, they plodded slowly through the crisp snow, their voices loud in their muted surroundings.

"I bet you twenty galleons."

Lily's laughter only rang louder at James' words, causing two pigeons to flee their resting place on a pine tree close by.

"You just can't bear to lose a bet, can you?" she sniggered, and James huffed.

"Not when I know I'm right!" he insisted. "Twenty galleons says he's too scared to admit he likes Lizzie, so he's taking Isla out to prove to himself he's too much of a bachelor to tie himself to one girl."

"James, _everyone_ knows how crazy he was about Isla when they were dating!" Lily cried, kicking a flurry of snow up in the air as they walked. "He could barely speak coherent sentences in her presence. They all thought he was going to turn, for her, what you turned into around me!"

James blushed at this comparison, shuffling his feet for a moment and pouting at the ground. He would not, however, be silenced.

"Even better. He only accidentally got talking to Isla again anyway. He's using it as an excuse!"

"That's not very nice on poor Isla. She's a nice girl, you know."

"Yeah, if someone nice is another word for psychotic."

"James!" Lily slapped his arm playfully. "She's not psychotic! She only exploded at you two because _you_ punished _her_, even though _Sirius_ was in the wrong when she dumped him!"

James, unable to find fault in her argument, glared good-humouredly at the ground, pretending to stamp his feet grumpily.

"Is this the way all first dates are supposed to work? I've never had the pleasure of spending one talking about other people's dating issues before. I usually save that for a third date at least."

James grinned, and they paused for a moment under the shelter of an oak branch.

"Well," James shrugged. "If you like we could be more date-ish…"

And before the small-smiling redheaded could reply – or perhaps back away, depending on her initial instinct – he leaned forwards and kissed her softly. He grinned against her lips as their cold noses crashed into one another, and she didn't step away, which he took as a good sign, but was still almost a little frightened to look into her face as he leaned back to gauge her reaction.

She stood appraising him with raised eyebrows and an expression, not of displeasure or repugnance at least, but more with an air that she was very inclined to roll her eyes, which was not exactly the effect he was going for.

"What?" he asked her, and she chuckled nervously at his paranoia.

"Was that a romantic gesture?" she asked. "Because it felt a little like an attempt to do the epic romance, sweep-me-off-my-feet spontaneous kiss that you see in movies."

"In what?"

"Never mind." This time she did roll her eyes, though her smile widened a little, too.

"Errm, okay then," James said quietly, scuffing his feet against the ground and reaching downwards to the snow with a bare hand. "How about this, then?" he asked lightly, grabbing a fistful of snow and slamming down onto Lily's head, rubbing it through her red locks and causing her to shriek as the cold trickled down her neck beneath her scarf.

"Well _that_ was mature!" she shouted, but James could see the corners of her lips twitching with delight, emerald eyes sparkling as her gaze drifted to the floor as if trying to estimate how long it would take her to grab some snow herself, and whether or not James would be able to get away in time. "Game on, Jimmy boy," she replied, and James took off, darting through the trees as quickly as he could.

Lily snatched her wand from her pocket to charm snowballs to follow him, their laughter disturbing the owls and the peace of the air around them, and their screeching rang all the way up to the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

"I think I'd better go, too," Isla sighed, draining the last of her butterbeer.

It was getting late and the majority of the Hogwarts students visiting Hogsmeade were heading home. The Three Broomsticks was almost deserted again. Remus and India-Rose had left almost an hour before, and Juliette had claimed she wanted to catch up with Professor Skyler about some Defence Against the Dark Arts homework that needed to be in for Monday not long after that.

Waving to her Gryffindor companions Isla Darcy threw a couple of sickles at Rosmerta who was standing behind the bar, and apologised for the racket they'd caused. She exited the pub with an extra skip in her step, leaving Elizabeth Harding and Sirius Black alone, the former of whom regarded the latter with a stony expression.

"What have I done?"

It was Sirius' natural question to everyone, and not for the first time he was right to ask it.

"What's with Little Miss Ravenclaw?" she asked coldly. Sirius' eyes flicked back to the door for a moment.

"She's fun," he said simply.

"Hmm, fun," muttered Lizzie, leaning back in her chair and sipping her drink slowly, pale green eyes never leaving the boy's face.

"You always liked Isla," Sirius cried defensively. "You nearly killed me when we broke up!"

"Yeah, well," Lizzie said airily, rolling her eyes and flapping a hand at her side in a vacant, pointless gesture.

"Yeah well what?"

"I don't know!" she sighed. "You made me feel like a bit of a-"

"A bit of a what?" Sirius demanded.

"To be honest you made me feel like a bit of a tramp, Sirius. Most people date _before_ sleeping together. You know, with the Christmas party and everything."

She shrugged innocently, fearing the strangled expression on his face as if he was trying to work out a complicated Arithmancy calculation in his head.

Then, suddenly, his confused face contorted into a look of pure delight, and a laugh escaped his throat, gurgling amidst the whiskey and butterbeer.

"Oh, Lizzie, you make me laugh. For a minute there I thought you were asking me out. I nearly died!"

Lizzie laughed weakly, a thin smile wavering on her lips.

"I aim to entertain."

"Yeah, entertain, not scare to death!" Sirius barked with laughter again, shaking his head and taking another sip of butterbeer – Remus having taken away his Firewhiskey and ordering Rosmerta to deny him any more alcohol once started singing. "And while we're on the subject," he said, sounding almost businesslike. "No-one knows…do they?" he sounded desperate, and Lizzie shook her head bitterly.

"No, no-one."

"Ahh, good. Well, Lily saw me leaving your dorm," Lizzie cried out wordlessly in shock, but he continued with alarming indifference, grinning. "But I saw her leaving the boys' dorm, too. So we made a no-tell agreement and left it at that."

"Oh, okay then," Lizzie said. But her calm expression bent into a frown. "How did you even get into my dorm?" she asked craftily, smiling despite herself.

"You don't want to know," Sirius smirked, tilting his chair until the back was resting against the wall, his legs on the table. "And don't scare me like that again, Harding." He winked teasingly, and Lizzie pulled her lips upwards in a final smile.

"Yeah, I promise. I'd better go," she said bluntly. "See you back at the castle, Sirius." And before he could do more than bid her a simple _g'bye_, the pub door had shut behind her.

His eyes stilled on her empty seat, eyeing it curiously.

"You need to clean up your act, Sirius Black," a woman's voice said, and he turned to see Rosmerta watching him form behind the bar, her wand raised and trained on a pile of glasses that were cleaning themselves. "She ain't going to wait forever. You may have that poor girl fooled, but you won't fool me. She wasn't the one joking there, boy. You were."

Sirius glowered at her, turning his back on the barmaid and purposefully resting his shoes on the table.

"You best listen to me, young man," Rosmerta continued, knowing full well he was listening, in spite of any attempt to appear otherwise. "Life's too damn short to faff around waiting, specially in this day and age, what with people dying and going missing. She'll wait awhile, then she'll give up. And trust me, once she's given up, you won't never see a chance at her again. She's a good girl, that one."

The young woman had stalked all the way around the bar to the boy's table, where she shoved his feet to the ground friendlily and ruffled his hair, using a cloth to clean by hand as she spoke to him.

"You got to give up the drinking and the pretty ex-girlfriends and the clever man show-off act soon…it'll all have to go, else you'll run out of chances. Look at old Jim; he's quietened down, hasn't he?"

Sirius, eyes on his bottle, mumbled something under his breath.

"Don't you give me no dragon dung about him being Head Boy that's done it. He's growing up, Sirius. S'natural. It's time you did the same."

She paused, unable to quite understand Sirius' thoughts as his eyes were directed downwards, but his lips were certainly not smirking anymore. Rosmerta smiled fondly at the boy.

She'd started working in the Three Broomsticks the summer after he had started visiting it, and had watched both him and his friends grow up over the past few years. But, it seemed, while the others had blossomed, Sirius had hit a brick wall. Perhaps he even knew it himself, and had chosen to ignore it.

"Understand?" she asked in a friendly voice.

"Whatever," Sirius snapped, dropping some galleons on the table and stalking out into the cold, wrapping his arms around himself to protect against the wind.

Rosmerta watched him go with a sad smile, hoping very much that the next time he visited her pub he would be bringing a very different date.

* * *

"Now, Wendy, what can I do for you?"

Wendy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She gazed intently at her clasped hands, unable to look into the Headmaster's face.

"It's…I'm afraid I'll sound foolish for saying it," she admitted.

Albus Dumbledore placed his hands on his desk calmly.

"Miss Dorrington, nothing you could possibly be so concerned about would ever be considered foolish by me."

This convinced her to sneak a glance at him, peering through her dark eyelashes shyly, and a nervous smile relaxed her tense expression.

"Sir, you see, I have these dreams," she began, forcing her head to lift upwards so she was facing the man properly, hoping he wouldn't notice the dark blush already staining her blotted neck and cheeks. If he did, he had the courtesy not to acknowledge it. "And they come true, sir, almost like a prophecy, but not."

"I see," Dumbledore said, suddenly much more interested. He rested his chin on his fingertips, which were pressed together, his elbows on the table. "Have they always come true?"

"Well, I know which ones are just dreams and which ones are, you know, _Dreams_. And I had one recently and I didn't know what to do. I got so worried, and I had to tell someone." She fretted quietly in her seat, biting her lip and running a hand through her hair distractedly.

"Please, my dear, calm down. It's all going to be fine," Dumbledore soothed, raising a hand towards her, rendering her twittering silent. "Just tell me what the dream was about."

"One of the boys, my friends. One of the Gryffindor seventh year boys?"

Dumbledore nodded, his piercing blue eyes surveying her through half moon spectacles, and she was reminded very much of the x-ray performed on her when she broke her arm at nine years old.

"Well, I dreamt that he killed someone, sir. Intentionally."

"I see." Dumbledore considered this for a moment before speaking again, always in the same tranquil tone. "In a battle, perhaps? For instance, if they were to become involved in the war after they left school?"

Wendy shook her head slowly, thinking back reluctantly to the few details she could recall with perfect clarity.

"No, not a battle. It was…I don't know. It was almost like murder, or something."

Dumbledore's gaze hardened and Wendy almost flinched, suddenly feeling an urge to apologise.

"And, may I ask, which boy commits this act?"

"James Potter, sir," Wendy murmured. "It was James Potter."

Dumbledore seemed taken aback by this, as if he had expected someone else.

"And have you told James this?" he asked after a moment of hesitation.

"No sir," Wendy shook her head. "I tried to…but then we were interrupted by Sirius Black, and I couldn't tell him."

"Do you not trust Sirius, Wendy?"

"I do!" Wendy insisted, nodding her head fiercely. "Of course I trust him! I suppose…I trust him _too_ much. That's why I couldn't tell him. James would be so upset…and he's so protective of James. I was worried he'd be angry at me for hurting James."

"By telling him the truth?" Dumbledore asked.

Wendy bit her lip again, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind her ear.

"Yes, sir. The truth, I suppose."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. His keen gaze seemed a little friendlier now as he continued to stare at Wendy, her shoulders hunched protectively around herself, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. He smiled encouragingly at her.

"I'm glad you were able to confide in me," he said softly. "I assume you don't know who he kills, or how?" he clarified, and Wendy nodded in embarrassment, eyes finding her fingers. "Well then, I think, though I hope I don't put too much of a burden on your shoulders, my dear, it would be best to keep this between ourselves. There is no sense in causing panic among your friends, especially in such difficult times. James is a good young man, we both know that. We must trust that, when the time comes for him to commit – or not commit – any particular act, he will choose with good reason and judgement, and with good intentions."

Wendy stared at her Headmaster, eyes widening.

"Sir?" she asked. "We should just let him do it?"

"If we do not know all the facts, how can we pick a correct decision? It is not our place to change another person's fate, Miss Dorrington. If we do not tell him, later on perhaps we can inform him should circumstances change, or more knowledge comes into our hands. But once we tell him, we cannot take it back. So yes, for now we wait, and allow what happens to happen. Are you comfortable with that?"

She paused only for a second.

"Of course sir. Whatever you think is best."

"Then goodnight, Wendy. I hope you come to me again, should this incident repeat itself on such a…grand scale."

"I promise, Professor Dumbledore. Goodnight, sir."


	19. Sunshine Between Stormclouds

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**18. Sunshine Between Stormclouds**

_**Of blackmail, strong encouragement, and Tallulah Hodges.**_

"So," Regulus Black murmured, hands clasped together in his lap and eyes fixated on the wall before him. He and the boy by his side were seated at a small table in the library, the only sounds being the occasional turn of pages, the click of Madam Switt's low heels, and the brave whisper of a few students.

Regulus, having waltzed in at a leisurely pace with the signature casual smirk on his face, was not appreciatively received by his fellow Slytherin, but the older student made no comment to dispute his company.

"Are you planning to expand upon your lack of a sentence at some point or not, Black?" Severus Snape asked coldly. He continued to read his book, lazily skimming from paragraph to paragraph, only half interested, and waited for the younger boy's response.

It took almost an entire minute for him to speak.

"James Potter and Lily Evans," he said with quiet amusement colouring his tone. Severus appeared to not understand his meaning.

"I'm sorry," he drawled. "I didn't realise you were such a gossip queen."

Regulus' smirk twitched, silvery blue eyes flitting sideways briefly to inspect the coolly controlled expression on Severus' face.

"I know your secret, Severus."

Though the seventh year did all in his power to appear unaffected by the statement, Regulus did not fail to notice his eyes had stopped moving.

"I must say, I am surprised Potter is still breathing. We've all seen them, you know. It would be cute if it wasn't so very disgusting – someone of as ancient blood as Potter holding hands with a mudblood…I've seen how ill tempered you are every time you return from sharing a class with them. Potter has always been very flamboyant about his successes, hasn't he? It seems his girlfriends are on a par with his Quidditch goals. Oh, the envy that burns in your face. And to think Swanning reckons you're as much of a mudblood hater as he is-"

"Stop it," Severus snapped, his knuckles bone white as he clenched his book. "What do you want, Regulus?"

"A promise," Regulus said seriously, the glint of delight in his eyes gone.

"Oh yes? What would you like me to _promise_?" He made no hint that he would oblige – Regulus Black was infamous for his absurd requests.

"Swanning told me about your plans for the Slytherin-Gryffindor match in two weeks."

Severus waited for more, but Regulus had fixed him with a silent glare.

"Are you going Gryffindor on the Gryffindors?" he asked, a slight grin twisting his lips. "We get our payback; you get your Quidditch League points. Everyone wins."

"Payback for what, exactly?" Regulus asked shrewdly, and Severus made a disparaging, wordless sound.

"I don't know, _existing_?" Severus offered. "Why do you care?"

"Because, Severus, in case you haven't noticed over the last five and a half years, I don't trust you."

"You've made that perfectly clear."

"Swanning promised he wouldn't do anything to hurt Sirius, but he doesn't speak for you."

"And you think I'll break Swanning's promise, do you?" Severus asked, eyes returning to his book, clearly bored already.

Their voices remained low, but there was a sudden urgency in the sixth year's voice only equalled by the utter casualness of the elder's.

"I know that last time you fought against the Gryffindors Sirius was the one to start the fight. I want your word you won't harm him."

"How charming," Severus simpered, a leer stretching his smile into something less mirthful. "I didn't know you cared so very dearly. Do your friends know of your affection for you brother? Come to think of it, does you _brother _know?"

"And does Potter know you're in love with his girlfriend?" Regulus retorted sharply, cold eyes flashing dangerously.

Severus' cheeks turned an ugly shade of puce as he gritted his teeth, and he exhaled loudly.

"I won't touch your brother," he murmured darkly. "But if he starts anything of his own I won't hesitate, understand?"

Regulus paused, and he considered demanding more. But he noticed how his fellow Slytherin's hand twitched lightly, as if jerking towards his pocket where his wand rested. There was no sense in making enemies of one of his own housemates – particularly one as useful and dangerous as Severus Snape.

"Very well." He stood, walking away with less of a strut in his step than had been there upon entering the library. Severus' whisper, however, brought him to a halt for a few seconds, though he refused to turn around.

"Regulus! – and you…you won't say a word?"

He could feel the humiliated anger radiating from Severus like the washing heat of a flame.

"Never," he whispered, before walking away.

* * *

"Ey-up!"

Lizzie flinched as a familiar shoulder bumped against hers in a friendly manner.

"Oh, hi," she murmured, and Jareth grinned at her enthusiastically.

"Hogsmeade in a few weeks," he said pointedly as he pulled his _Numerology and Gramatica _book out of his bag, smoothing the ruffles of a crumpled quill.

"I know," Lizzie mumbled, scratching at a scrap piece of parchment with her index finger, which she had spilt ink on as she organised her belongings.

They were early for class; Lizzie hadn't appreciated being stuck between two love-struck couples and one love-struck Marauder waving at his almost-girlfriend who was sitting at the next table along, and Jareth had been eager to join her, so had followed her out of the Great Hall from breakfast.

Since the start of term they had fallen into a comfortable routine each Arithmancy lesson. They would sit and they would chat. He would flirt and she would blush. He would take the blush as a sign of encouragement and she would rebuff him with a firm hand.

It wasn't the best of routines, but they had grown used to it over the past few weeks. Sometimes Lizzie felt guilty, but Jareth didn't seem to tire of rejection.

In fact, quite the opposite. His confidence seemed to thrive on it.

"So?" Jareth asked. "What do you say?"

"I like someone else!" Lizzie snapped, not angrily but out of desperation.

Jareth, rather than losing hope and falling into a dejected silence, smiled innocently.

"I know." He shrugged plainly, shaking the hair out of his eyes as if casting her comment aside as irrelevant.

"And I—you do?" the girl murmured. "So…what's with all the—" she gestured to his generally flirty posture and facial expression.

"Of course I know. Why else would you so ritually push me away instead of simply appeasing me and going on _one_ date?" he pointed out, and tapped his temple with an arrogant, knowing look. "Ravenclaw insight, remember?" he winked as Lizzie rolled her eyes. "You don't want him to see you even remotely interested in anyone else, in case he's falling for you, too."

Lizzie scowled.

"And yet you tease quite contentedly here when you're in the mood," Jareth continued his musings, glancing around the room which was slowly filling up with people. "Which means that your special someone doesn't attend this class, nor do any of his friends, or they might let slip about your flirtatious episodes with yours truly."

He raised his eyebrows in silent victory as Lizzie eyed their classmates disbelievingly.

"It doesn't take a genius to work out I don't fancy anyone in this class," she muttered, just in time to see two Slytherins throw themselves into the seats in front of them, glowering at the brief attention she gave them.

Jareth laughed huskily.

"I'm just here to remind you that if you change your mind – or you realise I am in fact equally as good looking, engaging and fascinating as Sirius Black – I'll be waiting."

"Well, thanks for the offer, but-" the blonde began, but she paused midsentence, eyes widening in horror at the smug grin on the Ravenclaw's face.

"Admit it. I'm brilliant."

"I will admit nothing," Lizzie all but shrieked, looking scandalised. "How did you know?" she demanded, whispering hoarsely and leaning over to him as close as she dared.

"Ravenclaw insight," he replied benignly, before looking towards the front of the class where Professor Verrison stood, wand directed at the blackboard as a chalk scrawled the learning objective in slanted, loopy writing.

* * *

"You know what?" India-Rose murmured with a giggle. "I've missed you, Darcy. I always liked you."

"Why thank you! I really needed that, you know. I felt so unaccepted until you said that," she drawled sarcastically, causing another eruption of snickering between the two girls.

They were sitting on the steps of Hogwarts' entrance, their feet inches away from the remnants of snowy ice that quilted the ground outside, wrapped in thick coats with their bags by their sides.

Remus lay stretched out behind them, smiling fondly at the pair. It was true – he'd missed the Ravenclaw, too. She had the sense of humour necessary to put up with Sirius' company, and the zealousness to stick up for herself; but she was less _infatuated_ with the boy. She cared for, and she liked, and she maybe, in some small way, _loved _the boy. But she didn't worship the ground Sirius walked on, and she had a knack for pulling his egotistical head out of his egotistical arse, as Remus had often pointed out to his fellow Marauder.

Yes, he had missed Isla Darcy a lot.

"_Muggle Studies_, pah! Why do they even take that wretched subject, anyhow?" the Ravenclaw asked. "Not that I don't like you guys, but I also just realised you probably wanted to take advantage of the alone time."

"What, with that sod?" India-Rose jerked her head backwards to indicate Remus, "Nu-uh, you're staying with us. He'd still just be studying if you weren't here, boring git." Remus smiled innocently, flicking lazily through his pages of an advanced defensive magic book, entitled in Old English, its colours and text faded with age.

"Sirius took it to piss off his parents. James took it because Sirius asked him to. Peter took it because James and Sirius did." He didn't bother trying to defend himself against India-Rose's accusatory words, instead simply answering Isla's first question.

"Great, so James is still in the process of growing a pair and learning to tell Sirius to piss off and let him make his own decisions?" she asked.

"Well he took it in third year, and by the time he could drop it in sixth year he'd decided muggles were even more fascinating than that new dragon breed, you know the one mixing Hungarian Horntails with Welsh Cobalt Lizards?"

"Oh, you mean the fictitious experiments the Daily Prophet reported in an attempt to tell us all about something _other _than how we're all at risk of being murdered in our beds by a psychotic Dark Lord?"

India-Rose let out a bark of laughter. "_Told_ you it was a hoax."

"No hoax," Isla corrected. "Just a complete media lie. They wanted to cause some big scandal that would distract everyone from that muggle village that was burnt to cinders by Death Eaters, remember?"

"How do you know that?" Remus asked curiously.

"My mum's Junior Editor of the Daily Prophet," the girl replied simply, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "They're doing it more and more. The interrogations about Jeremiah Love being involved in that big fraud case? Total fake. The only thing Jeremiah Love is guilty of is magically editing his photos." The trio grinned, but Remus was definitely interested now, even stuffing his book back into his bag to pay full attention to the girl with the black hair and the mismatched eyes.

"So that's what the Daily Prophet is contributing, is it? A bunch of false stories to amuse us while the world crashes around our ears?"

"I'm not defending it!" Isla raised her hands in surrender. "But yes, that's what they're doing."

"Well that sucks," India-Rose sighed.

"They've got an entire team devoted to coming up with ideas," Isla continued. "Mum's the one in charge of finding new journalists to recruit. She's just hired three more last week, actually. Some guy called Herbert Engelson, about fifty and used to design adverts for companies. That woman, Delilah Ancken, she wrote that book series about the witch who travels around the world to find herself and falls in love like, a bazillion times. Load of tripe, if you ask me-"

"I read one of those!" India-Rose interrupted, throwing her head back and sniggering loudly. "Calista Calwell – she went to Tibet and somehow managed to fall in love whilst climbing the Himalayas."

"Oh yes, a real classic," Isla replied with a wink. "And some other woman just fresh out of work at Flourish and Blotts. All the ambition of a Slytherin and none of the cunning. Rita Skeeter, she's called. Apparently she's a master of the written word, but Mum only hired her because the Editor, Norman Orwell, asked her to."

"I thought you still lived in Scotland," Remus asked abruptly, interrupting her train of thought.

"Err, yes, Oban. Why?"

"So your mum lives in London?"

"Yeah, ran off with the next door neighbour when I was seven; tried to claim she was a victim of domestic abuse in the divorce. Delightful woman. I live with my dad, but I still hear from her every now and again."

"Sounds like a charm," India-Rose said.

"Oh, she is," Isla drawled, and would have continued but at that moment the bell rang, signalling the end of first lesson. "Charms!" she cried. "With that blasted Sirius kid. Wish me luck."

"I'm coming with you," India-Rose reminded her. "He's the one that's staying behind."

"Apologies for having free time," Remus said with a sarcastic grin.

India-Rose sighed with mock impatience, grabbing onto Isla's arm and making to stalk away, pausing only to peck her boyfriend on the lips. She glanced back to wave at Remus once she reached the bottom of the stairway in the Entrance Hall to see him stood in the open doorway, the cold draft brushing past him from the outside.

"You know, I was expecting lovey-doviness from James and Lily," Isla mused as she dragged the Gryffindor up the stairs. "Not you and the bookworm."

"You don't think…" India-Rose sounded horrified, but Isla simply rolled her uneven eyes and continued to pull the girl towards their Charms class.

"Oh no, really, I think you're great together. I'm just surprised, that's all. You never seemed like the lovey-dovey type before. Remus definitely didn't."

This seemed to both pacify and please India-Rose, because she stopped struggling and walked calmly on, a serene smile on her slender face.

"Well, just goes to show, doesn't it?" she replied.

"And have you two, err," Isla raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Yet?"

"Not yet," India-Rose confided, leaning over to whisper into her friend's ear. "But I'll let you in on a secret."

"Oh, I do love secrets-"

"I'm planning to jump his bones tonight."

Isla stopped in her tracks, looking upon India-Rose with newfound, appraising admiration.

"Norrell, I am impressed. I didn't think you were capable of rape."

"It won't be rape," India-Rose hissed playfully, and this time she was the one pulling the other girl down the corridor. "Just strong encouragement, that's all."

"Oh, nice," Isla snorted, ruffling her companion's hair with her fingers once before dancing her way into the Charms classroom to sit beside Sirius.

* * *

"Hello Peter."

Peter jolted at the sound of a voice, having thought himself to be alone. The Library had seemed empty as he wandered through it, and he had taken a seat at the table furthest towards the back of the room, next to the door leading to the Restricted Section.

Looking up through his straggly fringe he peered into the roundish face of a girl he recognised. Her speckled brown eyes peered curiously at him, and her shy smile faltered as he failed to speak. Nervously she reached up to tuck her limp, dirty blonde hair behind her undersized ears.

"Ruth," he said quietly. "Hello there."

"Long time no see," she murmured, and Peter nodded, gesturing towards the chair across the table from him. She sat gladly, breathing deeply, and every few seconds would glance at her watch to keep from staring too long at the Gryffindor's face.

"How are you doing?" he enquired in a gentle voice, and she shrugged.

"Ok. I got your letters," she said. "Sorry I didn't reply to them. I guess…I just wasn't really up to writing."

"No, of course not," Peter assured her. "I didn't expect you to. I just wanted to know I was thinking about you."

He pushed his Transfiguration book to the side. For a moment it looked as if he was going to reach over and take her hand but he didn't, or perhaps thought the better of it and refrained.

"Have you been at school all year? I don't remember seeing you-"

"I came back at the beginning of this term," Ruth informed him. "My friend Hetty's been sending me the work since the beginning of the year, though, so I've kept up."

"Oh," Peter said, and coughed partially out of discomfort and partially to clear the lump in his throat. "That's good. So you haven't missed too much, then?" he asked.

"Not really. I've been staying with my grandparents."

"Oh?" he repeated. He almost continued with another _That's good_, but reconsidered and said nothing.

Another awkward pause; Peter returned his gaze to his notes on human transfiguration's basic wand movements, but he could still feel Ruth's eyes on him. Before he could do or say anything, she reached over and clasped her fingers around his hand, squeezing tightly.

"It's good to see you again, Peter," she mumbled.

"You too, Ruth," he replied, and with a sad, lonely smile she stood and walked away, her bag swinging heavily at her side. He watched her leave with a concerned frown puckering his brow, and he squeezed his fist tightly, fingers wrapping around the warmth where her skin had brushed his.

* * *

"Evans, get your beautiful little bottom and park it on my broom _right now_."

Lily, who had been protesting obstinately for some time, raised her eyebrows, looking scandalised.

"Wh – oh sweet – oh Merlin – you have a dirty mind, woman!" James groaned. "Lily – broom – fly – James will teach," he said slowly, indicating the broomstick he was already sitting on. "It's perfectly safe, I promise."

"Well now I'm simply afraid of sexual assault," Lily retorted, narrowing her eyes playfully and refusing to take one step towards the boy.

They were standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, both enjoying the freedom of having their last lesson of the day as a free period – thank goodness for first years and their Potions catastrophes, rendering the dungeons classroom useless for the rest of the day.

Of course, while Lily would have been perfectly happy to curl up in the common room, James had insisted they take advantage of the lack of wind and rain, and no amount of coaxing from his girlfriend could convince him to be satisfied with a nice walk around the lake.

"Lily, I promise there will be no accidents and no assaults. Just please, get on the broom and let me teach you how to fly."

"I know how to fly," Lily snapped. "I really don't want to James. Come on, please, don't make me."

"Ahh, but Lilykins," James sighed fondly – it seemed the nickname was no longer a taboo now they were boyfriend girlfriend, as opposed to _harasser_ and _harassee_ – and he held out his hand for her. "I can teach you how to _enjoy _flying."

"Like to see you try," the redhead muttered darkly.

"I would!" James cried hysterically. "But you won't let me!" He pointed out stubbornly.

Lily glowered at him, and she considered turning around and stalking back towards the castle. Instead, however, she walked tentatively forwards, eyeing the broom warily and reaching out to take her boyfriend's hand with particular caution. James, beaming at his success, hoisted Lily into a better position and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Take hold of the handle," he said, guiding her hands to the polished wood. "Tuck your knees in," he pulled his legs around hers a little better, and he rested his chin on her shoulder to inspect her posture. "That's it, all set. You ready?"

"Nope," Lily grunted, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

"Open your eyes, Lily, or you won't be able to steer."

"Don't you tell me what to do, Potter!" she bellowed. "You've got me on the damn broom. Now fly, Peter Pan, fly!"

Deciding it was best not to tease further for fear of pushing her too far James smiled into Lily's shoulder, gave her a tight squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, and kicked off the ground.

By the time they reached fifty feet Lily was issuing a series of threats that gave James a strange sense of déjà vu, as if he'd accidentally set off a time turner and was suddenly back in fifth year. Lily threatened to rip James' throat out, to smash his broom to pieces, to render him infertile, to hex him into next week, and when she feel silent after threatening to sell him to Voldemort James finally paused, hovering in midair.

"Are you calm yet?" he asked, and Lily shook her head, looking uncomfortable.

"I hate you," she muttered.

"I love you too, Lily-Flower. How about a tour of Hogwarts?"

"I know what Hogwarts looks like—don't you dare, Potter!" she shrieked, but James leaned forward, pushing her torso downwards with his own, and streaked through the air towards the castle, swerving around the Astronomy Tower and bumping gracefully over the turrets and roofs.

"Having fun?" he shouted in her ear. She screamed something back to him, but the wind drowned out most of her words, leaving only _dead, regret, kill, hate, _and _pray _to be caught by James' ears. "Good!" he replied loudly, his hands resting on hers as he guided the broom through the chilly afternoon sky.

They soared and swirled, and as the seconds whizzed past James felt the redhead relax in his embrace, until he could have sworn he even heard a soft, breezy laugh issuing from her delighted lips.

"Want to stop?" he leaned into her ear, and she nodded fiercely, though he caught a glimpse of a smile lighting up her expression nonetheless. "Here we go," he said, planting his feet down firmly and taking a little of his weight off the broom.

"JAMES POTTER!" Lily screamed. Her voice was scratchy and hoarse in the wind, which had begun to pick up. "GET ME ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW YOU GIT!"

James smiled, admiring the view from one of the many roofs of the castle.

"Never been on this one before. Is that Professor Simms' tower over there?" he pointed to the turret closest to them, one arm still wrapped around the girl's waist.

"If you don't get me off the roof right now – James, _off the roof!_" she roared.

"All right, all right…don't get your wand in a knot," he grumbled, jerking and twitching as Lily began to reach backwards to slap him repeatedly.

He gripped his broom tighter, clenching his elbows in to lock the angry redhead in one place to keep her from wrestling furiously in her panic. He kicked his heels into the slates of the roof, making a mental note to tell Sirius he'd found another hiding spot for their Extreme Hide and Seek, and swooped towards the ground.

Unfortunately, having done more than enough to make Lily jumpy, his sudden twist in the air on his way down extracted from her a shriek and a final jolt, and he gasped in surprise, fingers fumbling as she fell out of his arms and straight through the air. She tumbled to the ground with little grace and good deal of screaming, and James leapt after her, leaving his broom to continue speeding away without a rider.

He landed face first, hearing the crunch of bone on bone without really recognising with it. Groaning, he removed his face from the grass, spitting out soil, and glanced over at the girl.

She was lying on her side, red hair spilling over her face.

"Lily?" he whispered, but she did move. "_Lily!_" He scrambled towards her on all fours, brushing the hair from her face and raising her head off the ground. "Lily, come on Lily…wake up, open your eyes…Lily, wake up!" he ordered, his entire frame trembling violently and tears prickling at his eyes. "Damn it Lily, please, wake up!"

On the verge of sobbing, he shook her shoulders desperately, too lost in his guilty grief to notice the gentle smile tugging at her lips, slowly twisting into an uncharacteristic smirk. And as James panicked, Lily was unable to suppress her giggle.

James paused in his hysterics, releasing her from his grip in shock.

Lily, eyes finally open and smile wide, looked up at him expectantly. "Can I help you?"

"You toad," James muttered with a fond twang in his voice. "I thought I had killed you."

"And _I_ nearly did kill _you_," she assured him darkly. "Never put me on a roof again, Potter."

"I thought you were _dead!"_ James shrieked.

He was still leaning over her, one hand on either side of her face, glaring down at her, clearly unimpressed by her antics.

"You could have just hexed me or something! You didn't have to scare me like that."

"_Oh_," Lily sighed, rolling her eyes and waving at airy hand. "But that's what I did while I still hated you," she reminded him.

James, spying a window of opportunity, raised a single eyebrow cockily, grinning his flirtiest grin.

"And now?" he enquired lightly.

Lily narrowed her eye suspiciously.

"Oh, smooth Potter, but no. Don't you think I don't know what you're up to there," she snickered, reaching around to point a finger into his face. "You aren't going to trick me into saying I love you any time soon. Because I don't. I like you very much. That is all."

"Well," James exhaled loudly, taken aback by her bluntness. "I guess I'll have to do all I can to change that then, eh?"

Lily shrugged innocently, smirking at his evil grin.

He leaned towards her, his chest parallel to hers, and she closed her eyes as their noses brushed against one another. She could feel his breath on her lips, but just before they could meet he stopped.

"Where's my broom?"

Green eyes flew open and she glared at the boy as if his very presence insulted her.

"Did you just put your broom _over_ kissing the girl you almost killed?" she yelled, and he winced.

"Lily dearest," James said calmly. "If you keep screaming like this you're going to have no voice left to tell off Slytherins with. Did it go into the Forbidden Forest?" he asked, turning his gaze to the trees close by.

"I don't believe you," Lily said breathlessly. "You're about to get up and go find your broom and leave me here, aren't you?"

"Never," the boy reassured her, jumping to his feet and pulling her with him. "I'm taking you with me of course."

Ignoring the ache in his wrists from the fall he began to drag the redhead towards the forest, ignoring her protests.

"James Potter, you are the Head Boy, and I am the Head Girl. There is no way we are going to set such a terrible example and go traipsing around the one place students are ultimately _forbidden _to enter!"

James, on the other hand, had bigger worries.

"Tallulah has been my loyal companion since I became Captain of the Gryffindor Team. I am not giving up on her."

Lily stopped in her tracks, digging her heels into the ground, silenced with incredulity.

"You named your broom Tallulah? Your broom is a girl?"

James glanced back at her, confused as to why his broom _wouldn't _be a girl.

"Yes, after the first female Chaser of the England Quidditch Team: Tallulah Hodges. Can we go now? The sooner we find her the sooner we can get back to the castle. We might even make dinner if you hurry up."

Unable to find the strength to retort Lily followed the raven haired boy into the glooming shadow of the Forbidden Forest, emerald eyes glances left and right for any sign of being watched.


	20. Rainclouds Muster

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**19. Rainclouds Muster**

_**Of agreements, confessions, and the God of Sex.**_

"Y'all right there, Barbie?"

"Who?" Lizzie asked bemusedly, glancing up at the boy stood above her. She had been sitting on the bottom of the staircase in the Entrance Hall for almost ten minutes, and upon hearing someone approach from behind she had expected it to be a fellow Gryffindor.

Apparently not.

"Never mind," Jareth replied, and continued walking past the blonde in the direction of the Great Hall, where the majority of Hogwarts' students were dining. Lizzie watched him walk away, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched desperately at the sight of his retreating back, until finally she gave in.

"Jareth!" she called, scrabbling to her feet and jogging over to him.

"Mhmm?" he mumbled, turning around to face her.

"I wanted to talk to you," she began, but words failed her and smiled sheepishly at him.

"About…?" the boy prompted.

"About earlier today," Lizzie clarified. "Look, I'm sorry I got kind of short with you. It's just…I want to be your friend, I really do. But I also really don't want to be your girlfriend."

Jareth seemed to appraise her for a moment, glancing her up and down as if truly seeing her for the first time.

"Okay, I'm all right with that." He shrugged contentedly.

"No, Jareth, I don't think you are." Lizzie shook her head slowly, lowering her voice as a pair of Hufflepuffs trotted past them on their way to dinner. "If we're going to be friends I have to know you're not going to keep offering to take me out on a date, or asking if I think you look good, or telling _me_ that _I _look good, or-"

"Friends aren't allowed to compliment each other in your House?" Jareth asked in mock horror. "Merlin, I'm glad I'm not a Gryffindor."

"Ha, ha. You know what I meant. There's a difference between telling me my hair looks nice and informing me that my cleavage looks particularly lovely today."

"Actually, for your information I'm simply an expert on cleavage. My sister makes me buy her low cut tops that our parents don't let her wear."

"Well good for you," Lizzie grumbled, "Rhia's lucky to have such a wonderful, caring brother. Now, are you going to leave me alone or am I going to have to leave you alone? You can have my friendship or nothing. Your choice."

Jareth sighed, his eyes, closer to green than blue in the torchlight from the walls, troubled, and for a moment he gritted his teeth. Then he averted his gaze, as if in deep thought, before finally speaking.

"I want to be your friend," he admitted, a colour of humility in his sheepishness. "I just want you to know that I'll be waiting."

"I'm sure you will," Lizzie said with a frank smile, trying her best not to feel guilty about all but forcing him into a friendship that would only hurt him more, being around her but not allowed to inform her of how very much her cared about her.

"Can we hug?" he asked. "At least tell me you hug in Gryffindor."

"Yes, we hug," Lizzie informed him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, his own snaking over her shoulders and pulling into a close embrace.

"See?" he mumbled into her hair. "Perfect fit."

"Ey!" she chided, pulling away sharply. Jareth, however, simply laughed.

"Jeez, you Gryffindors have no sense of humour!" he cried, reaching up to ruffle her blonde locks playfully. "See you around, Harding," he said with a breathy laugh, leaning over and kissing her forehead before she could protest and walking away casually before she could scold.

Lizzie watched him stroll carelessly into the Great Hall, biting her lip against a fond grin; she was about to walk back to her seat on the stairs when she spotted a figure stood in her place, having clearly just quite shamelessly watched the exchange.

Sirius frowned gently, not angry or upset, but as if trying to work out a series of difficult sums in his head. He raised a hand slowly, pointing first at the blonde girl and then at the door Jareth had just walked through, realisation dawning in his expression. '_You_?' He muttered to her. She opened her mouth to rectify the misunderstanding but the Gryffindor boy was abruptly interrupted by another girl dancing down the steps towards him.

Isla slipped an arm around his waist, kissing his cheek affectionately. When it became clear he hadn't quite noticed her, she looked around for what had captured his gaze. She smiled brightly at Lizzie, waving friendlily.

Lizzie waved back vaguely, seeing the hand gesturing to her, but she didn't move her gaze from Sirius' confused face.

"Sirius? Everything all right?" Isla asked quietly.

The boy finally broke away from his vacant stupor, grinning at her and kissing her temple in return. He slung an arm over her shoulders as they strolled by and Lizzie followed them, several steps behind and eyeing the couple with suspicious hurt in her eyes that she fought hard to conceal before she reached the table.

As they approached the Gryffindors Isla made to leave but Sirius kept hold of her, informing her that he was going to do his bit to help promote interhouse relations, starting with her.

Isla, uncomfortable sitting among the Gryffindors and trying her best not to look over at the blonde girl sat opposite her, simply perched lightly on the bench.

India-Rose and Remus were already seated, and Sirius glanced around, trying to work out where everyone had run off to. Before he could voice his question, however, he spied Peter walking into the room, a girl with dirty blonde hair and a round, friendly face by his side. He wolf whistled loudly, earning two laughs from Remus and India-Rose, and two nervous smiles from Isla and Lizzie.

Peter blushed a furious shade of red as he took his seat, having parted ways with the girl after only a few steps inside the Great Hall.

"Ooh, Peter, you've pulled!" Sirius kicked him lightly under the table, winking. "Who's the lucky girl?"

The younger boy mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It's Ruth," Peter admitted reluctantly.

"Oh, right, that friend you had. Where did she run off to? Haven't seen her around in a while. You used to be kind of good friends, right? Was she the one that lost her parents?" he asked, munching on a chip, unaware of the surrounding eyes turning at his loud voice.

Peter glowered at his friend, gripping his fork tighter and tighter until his knuckles were turning white.

"She didn't _lose _them," he snarled darkly. "They were murdered. So was her little brother and sister."

"Well that sucks, doesn't it?" Sirius commented lightly, grabbing another fistful of chips.

"Sirius!" Isla snapped, eyes wide with surprise.

"Padfoot, shut your trap," Remus warned in a low voice, eyes on his plate and one hand gripping tightly onto India-Rose, who looked ready to slap the black haired boy.

Peter simply stared at him, appalled.

"Speaking of newfound love affairs," Sirius continued hastily, trying to brush the attention off himself and redirect it. "Lizzie has a new boyfriend."

"What?" India-Rose cried, turning to her friend and deciding that making a fuss over Lizzie would be the best way to diffuse the tension. Lizzie, however, didn't seem so enthused. She scowled at Sirius, who stared plainly back at her, silvery eyes wide with innocence.

"He's not my boyfriend. He's a friend. His name is Jareth-"

"Sheehan, yes, we know him. Still, not exactly me though, is he?" he asked with a snort.

Lizzie stared coldly at him, and Isla's eyes flicked between the boy and the blonde.

"Come on, Lizzie-Biz!" he cried playfully. "You can't possibly want to go back once you've had a piece of me," Sirius winked teasingly, and India-Rose gasped, unable the stop the _'what?'_ that escaped her lips. "Christmas Party, Indy dear, it's where it all happened, apparently. You and Moony, Lizzie and Padfoot…"

He was jolted out of his humorous laugh when Isla, her pale cheeks a violent shade of red, stood abruptly, stepping off the bench and turning away from the Gryffindors to hide the tears in her eyes. "I'm off back to my table," she said bluntly. "Don't!" she snapped as Sirius tried to take her arm, slapping his palm away with a sharp hand.

The frown once more putting a deep crease between his eyebrows, Sirius sat back down slowly, gaze upturning to meet a pair of pale green eyes that had hardened with humiliated rage. Lizzie licked her trembling lips, standing shakily and breathing a heavy sigh.

"I seem to have lost my appetite," she said quietly, and with an assuring nod to India-Rose, she too walked away from the Gryffindor Table.

They sat in silence.

Remus, in his good grace, continued to eat slowly, amber eyes either on his girlfriend or on his plate. India-Rose had stopped eating, her hand still clasping Remus' free one, but her eyes only ever on the empty space where Lizzie had sat for less than five minutes,. Peter played absently with his food, desperate to turn around to the Hufflepuff Table where Ruth sat, but didn't dare for fear of drawing attention to himself.

And Sirius simply sat, eyes flicking up to the Ravenclaw Table where Isla had taken her seat beside her best friend, Jarvis Mayrs, who sitting exactly three places away from Jareth Sheehan.

"Where's Prongs?" he asked in a small voice, and Remus, impressed that he'd dared to speak, answered in a shaky voice.

"With Lily."

There was a pause, in which Remus considered looking up at his friend, deciding he owed Sirius that much at least, and he glanced upwards to meet his gaze for a moment, the tiniest of smiles creeping into his face, letting the boy know that, though he was in the wrong, he wasn't going to suddenly turn on him.

"What's gotten into you?" India-Rose asked in a cold voice, undoing the small knot of security in Sirius' chest that Remus had only just tightened for him.

"I don't know," he whispered quietly.

"You're lucky Juliette didn't witness that, she'd have gone apeshit on you," India-Rose muttered with almost amusement in her voice, but still she didn't quite have the willpower to look over at him.

Though a little confused by the term _apeshit_, Sirius assumed it was something negative and nodded slowly. "Yeah, where is Swindon, anyway?"

"In the dorm," India-Rose replied. "I think Wendy's there, too."

* * *

Wendy crept up the stairs from the common room to the dorm as quietly as she could, stopping outside the door and squeezing her eyes shut. She held her breath as she pushed the door open, hoping beyond hope that Juliette hadn't fallen asleep.

She hadn't, of course, and Wendy breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Juliette sprawled on the floor, having borrowed every pillow she could find to create a new, makeshift mattress for herself. In one hand she held a mug of what smelled like tea, and in the other a book.

"Yes, Winifred?" she asked without looking around.

"How did you know it was me?" Wendy asked as she leapt over to join her friend on the pillow-mattress. Juliette snapped her book shut, tossing it aside before the newcomer could catch the title.

"Because India-Rose would have jumped on me, Lily would have started a loud lecture on health and safety, and Lizzie would have complained that I'm messing up her pillow cover."

"True enough," Wendy agreed, leaning back to lounge alongside Juliette, who offered her a sip of tea. Accepting, she took a moment to answer, and Juliette was patient enough to wait for her to pluck up the courage in her own time.

She knew Wendy well by now; wait long enough and she'll talk when she's good and ready to talk.

"Jules…you know my, well, my dreams?"

"Your '_Dreams'_," Juliette asked, lying back down on her front looking uninterested, but she gestured for Wendy to continue nonetheless.

"I talked to Dumbledore about them."

"Oh?" Juliette asked lightly, eyes closed and face looking atypically serene. "Did he recommend someone at St Mungo's who'll be able to help?"

"Very funny." Wendy groused, pulling a face at her friend that she knew would have been ignored even if Juliette had seen it. "No, he said I was to take them seriously, and to report to him if I had any more of them."

Juliette, her full lips twisted in disbelief, froze, and her eyelids opened slowly, chocolate brown eyes finding her friend with a new sense of concerned admiration.

"Really? Why? What did you dream about?" she asked.

"That's the thing. You can't tell anyone. I sort of said I'd keep it between myself and Dumbledore, but then I talked to him again and I asked if I could just tell someone else, and he agreed I shouldn't have to keep it all to myself."

"Keep _what _all to yourself?" Juliette demanded, spilling hot tea over herself and the pillows – including Lizzie's, she noticed with a guilty wince – as she sat up abruptly.

"I had a dream about James."

"Potter?" Juliette asked, "James as in _our_ James?"

"Yes, James as in _our_ James," Wendy concurred nervously. "And I dreamt…I dreamt he kills someone."

Juliette mulled this over for a moment, brown eyes boring into blue, and she stuttered disbelievingly.

"Yeah but, we're going into a warzone out there. Of course there's a chance he's going to kill someone, there's a chance we'll _all_-"

"No, Jules," Wendy said softly. "He goes up to someone's house and he kills them. I'm not sure how, or when, or who, but kill-"

"How can you possibly know if you didn't see it all?" Juliette cried, throwing herself back onto the pillows only to squeal and wriggle away from the damp mess of rapidly cooling tea she'd spilt.

"I just know, Jules, okay?!" Wendy shouted, louder than Juliette thought she'd ever heard her shout. "And now every time I see him I remember. And I needed to tell someone. And I know you like playing the bitch, Jules, and I know you stir up dragon shit just to make life interesting, but I know I can trust you with this. You care about James so much, and also…I guess because…"

Wendy's voice faltered and her eyes fell to her fingers, which fiddled with her wand as she spoke in a feverish voice.

"You guess?" Juliette asked, curious eyes hardening not with anger but with something akin to fear.

"You're not the most forgiving person at times, and you can't deny that!" Wendy held up a hand to silence the brunette, who looked eager to retort. "If I'm right, if this happens…Juliette I can't begin to imagine what you went through and this, if James does this… I thought if you knew it was coming, if you expected it to happen then you might, you know-"

"Be more inclined to forgive him?" Juliette cried with a note of hysteria in her voice. "Wendy I've known the boy since I was five! Murderer or saviour I love him like a brother. How could you think I'd – that I'd ever, _ever_-"

"Am I right?" Wendy asked, raising her eyebrows firmly, no longer hiding behind her mop of black hair but staring defiantly at the older girl.

She observed Juliette as she fought for control of her own confused anger; her dark eyes to match her dark hair, the slender line of her jaw to match the curve of her cheekbones, cheeks tinged with her usual angry blush.

"Am I right, Juliette?" Wendy demanded, and Juliette blinked several times to dispel the prickling of her eyes.

"I would always forgive James," she said firmly, gripping her half empty mug with quivering fingers. "But I'm glad you confided in me."

Wendy shrugged stubbornly. "I needed to tell someone. You were always good at keeping things to yourself."

"I thought you said I liked to play bitch?" Juliette asked with a cynical almost-smile.

"You keep lots of secrets."

There had never been much of a connection between the pair. Wendy hadn't made much of an effort to make friends in their first year, with Juliette and Lily inseparable, while India-Rose and Lizzie only friends because they had the common grounds of both befriending the boys. In fact, Juliette had spent most of the first year talking only to their teachers, Lily, and James – when Sirius Black wasn't around, of course.

And Wendy? Juliette couldn't remember her speaking to anyone except Lizzie…maybe Lily on occasion.

"How would you know?" Juliette asked suspiciously.

"You took a sip Firewhiskey."

"Excuse me?"

She had never been able to follow Wendy's train of thought, but this one was something else entirely.

"I didn't drink much at the Christmas Party we hosted last term. You took a sip of Firewhiskey on the Cruciatus Curse question. You never mentioned it before, and everyone else was probably too drunk to remember it. You probably hoped it would be discreet, but I saw it.

"You were attacked when you were nine years old, the day your parents were murdered. You don't hate Sirius _because_ it was his cousin that killed your parents. You hate him because he reminds you of her, and every time you think of her you remember what it was like." She spoke with only sympathy in her voice, and though it ripped through Juliette's proud heart, she knew Wendy meant well, and that what she was trying to say was that she understood.

"They have the same laugh," the brunette said quietly. She lowered her eyes, which were shining brightly in the low light of the dorm.

"You see?" Wendy asked. "You know when to keep a secret. I know I can rely on you, Juliette."

* * *

"Face it, Evans. You're lost."

"I am a woman, James Potter. I am never lost!" Lily bellowed, storming over broken twigs and stumbling over muddy roots of the trees that made up the Forbidden Forest.

What little sunlight that had managed to sneak its way past dense, leafy branches had vanished, leaving the pair in total darkness but for the shimmering lights of their wands. Lily stalked through the forest at breakneck speed, a good ten paces in front of James, who looked perfectly at ease amongst the looming trees and creeping shadows that surrounded them.

He smiled fondly at her hysteria and jogged to catch up with her, his recovered broomstick in his hands.

"You know, if we used the broom we could fly upwards, straight out of the forest and be back in the castle in no time."

"I am never getting on a broom with you again, Potter," the redhead snarled, eyeing the stick of wood in his hand with disgust. "I am cold, tired, and hungry. And I nearly died tonight."

"Yeah, don't rub it in," James muttered. "I said I'm sorry already, didn't it?" he grinned charmingly at Lily as she glanced at him, only receiving a badly concealed smirk in return.

"Well say it again," she muttered, halting as she stared at a particularly gnarled and ancient tree, with twisted limbs and only a handful of crisped leaves at its fingertips. "I have definitely seen that tree before," she said warily.

"Because we've been walking in a circle for the past half hour," James grumbled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing firmly.

Lily pouted, her cheeks tinged rosy pink with cold and embarrassment. She held her wand aloft, rays of pale blue light streaming outwards in every direction and casting an eerie glow on both students' faces.

"This is your fault," she muttered darkly, her gloomy expression only intensifying as James grinned casually.

"What are you going to do, break up with me?" he drawled sarcastically.

"I haven't ruled it out," she warned staring around for a sign – _any _sign – that would give her a clue as to where they were.

"Oh really?" James asked. "Well, I guess you have no need for me to be here then, do you?" he snapped lightly, and Lily shook her head, quirking an eyebrow and sneering at him mockingly.

"Not at all; in fact you're more of a hindrance than a help, Potter."

"Well in that case," James shrugged, mounting his broom. "I guess I could just find my own way back."

"I guess you could," Lily dared, her eyes flashing with challenging delight.

"In a bit, Evans," James replied coolly, and kicking his heels into the ground he soared upwards, through the trees and out of sight.

* * *

He found her, unsurprisingly, in the Astronomy Tower.

While most students used the tower as a place to spend intimate _alone_ _time_ that usually resulted in several detentions from prefects coming across them, Sirius Black and Isla Darcy considered it to be the place they could really talk to one another.

Talk, for once, not being a euphemism for something less innocent.

She sat, as ever, with her legs dangling over the edge between the balcony rails, leaning back on one palm while in her left hand she twirled her wand absently.

He dropped himself down next to her without a word, wanting to gauge her mood before speaking.

The tears had long since vanished from her eyes, replaced with a distance in their long stare. She acknowledged his presence by clearing her throat, not looking over at him, instead watching the sun sink lower and lower into the dusty horizon.

He opened his lips, but words failed him and he hastily closed them again.

"What do you want, Sirius?" Isla asked him, her voice as weary as her expression.

"On a scale of one to ten how angry are you right now?" he asked warily.

A sad smile twitched at the girl's lips.

"Well, I was at about a high eight, but I'm now hovering at around an average four."

"Ok," Sirius said, calculating how long her being at a four gave him before she lost her patience with him. "If I told you I was sorry would you believe me?"

The smile was almost amused now, but her eyes still mirrored her disappointment.

"You regret saying it? No. You regret saying it in front of me? Yes."

He would have disputed but it was the truth, and he knew better than to lie to her.

"It didn't mean anything. I was just teasing. I always tease her. I always tease _everyone_. Come on, Thistle, you know that! I just – I don't think most of the time."

If he had hoped using his personal nickname for her would win him any favours he was wrong. She gritted her teeth, her lower jaw jutting outwards as she frowned at the line of trees in the distance. He was right, he simply didn't think, but that didn't make her feel any better at all. If anything it made her feel worse.

Because she had known that all along. She had known that last time, too.

"I just felt so humiliated, Sirius." She finally turned to look him in the eye, and the piercing look of betrayal she threw him made him twitch uncomfortably. "And that was just _me_. Lizzie's your friend, Sirius. How could you embarrass her like that? I was mortified; Merlin knows how she felt."

Sirius looked down in what might have been shame.

"You have to apologise to her, Sirius," Isla ordered him firmly, placing a hand on his knee and giving him a gentle shake. "Go do it now. Then we can talk about your apology to me."

The boy stood silently and walked away, stopping only to kiss the top of her head.

Isla listened to the slow sounds of his retreating steps, reminding herself it was the right thing to do, making him go back to the blonde.

She wasn't a fool. She had seen the way they were looking at one another when she interrupted them in the Entrance Hall before dinner. But Sirius had chosen her. He wouldn't be so cruel – to either girls, surely – as to simply use her as part of a game, would he?

Isla closed her eyes, the grounds and sky laid out before her too beautiful for her torment at the thought of being broken, for the second time, by Sirius Orion Black.

* * *

Lily stood perfectly still, waiting for James to come back.

Feet planted firmly on the ground, she kept her eyes on the empty space between two mossy branches that he had disappeared between. Her wand hung forgotten at her side, its light dimmed in her own shadow.

She waited, and she waited, and then she waited some more.

Slowly the confidence that he would return started to ebb away. The seconds ticked past and with every moment the forest seemed to grow louder and louder. Twigs snapped and a breeze hummed through the thickset boughs, and still James didn't reappear.

"I don't believe it," the redhead muttered to herself. "I'm going to kill him!" she informed the trees closest to her in a mutinous hiss. "I'm going to kill him, and then I am going to break up with him, the sod!" she bellowed at the hidden sky above her.

Fear started to take over her anger, however, as the evening sounds of the Forbidden Forest surrounded her, closer than the darkness and even more frightening, too.

She walked slowly forwards, shoulders hunched and wand held up defensively, trying to ignore the shadowy demons that seemed to dance around her in the dark.

She had never been afraid of the dark. In fact, quite the opposite. Almost every one of her primary school friends, the friends she had all but forgotten since Hogwarts, had insisted on some sort of nightlight during sleepovers. But Lily? She could never sleep soundly unless it was pitch black. She revelled in the looming shadows of her bedroom, and on Christmas Eve, when the family walked back from church – a ritual from her father's younger years – at breakneck speed, desperate to get home, even as a child she would linger as long possible, staring up at the impossibly dark sky above.

But this dark was not the same homely gloom that enveloped her at home. This was a disconcerting dark, an intimidating dark, and it seemed to swallow everything, including the light of her wand that now seemed so feeble without James' to accompany it.

Yes, James Potter was surely a dead man.

Lost in her murderous thoughts, it took Lily a while to notice the hazy figure approaching her from her left, and when she finally did she let out a shriek, screeching a spell without thought and missing the being by a good ten feet.

"_Stupefy!"_

After her initial shock she paused, at last able to make out what it was.

She smiled breathlessly, watching as the large stag drew nearer. It plodded along at a relaxed pace, looking perfectly at ease in her company and surprisingly unperturbed by her spell.

Lily held out her hand, delightfully shocked when the creature closed the gap between them and nudged her palm with his nose. She gasped as he licked her fingers with a rough tongue, stepping closer still and butting her hand with his whole head, and the tips of her fingers brushed against his majestic antlers.

"Come to help a lost girl out?" she asked with a bemused grin. "I could use it."

At this the stag turned and began to walk away again.

"Hey!" Lily cried. "Where are you going?"

The stag turned to glance at her before twisting his head sharply back again, almost as if he was gesturing at her to follow.

Lily didn't question the movement, and jogged to his side. She had stopped questioning unexplainable things on her first trip to Diagon Alley as an eleven year old.

"You've got better manners than that bloody boyfriend of mine," Lily informed the stag, who gave a grunt as if he understood what she meant. "What a total arse. He left me, you know? Just flew off and left me to fend for myself – not that I'm not capable, mind – but it was his fault I was in here in the first place! _And _he nearly got me killed on that bloody broomstick of his. I will never understand why he likes flying so much. Okay, so maybe I enjoyed it a _tiny_ bit, but not _that_ much."

Lily paused, staring around at the path the stag was leading her on. If anything the woods seemed to be getting darker, not lighter.

"Are you sure you're going the right way?" she asked.

In reply, the stag butted her shoulder with the left side of its antlers and she continued warily on, eyeing the trees about her distrustfully.

"You know, I think I'm insane for going out with him," she confessed to the stag. "You'd think arguing was just what I'd do all the time with him when I hated him. But no," she muttered bluntly. "We had an argument last night, and do you know what it was about? The order in which we do our homework. He was doing Muggle Studies and I was doing Transfiguration, and I explained to him how Transfiguration needs to be handed in tomorrow, but his Muggle Studies wasn't due for two days, so surely he should do the Transfiguration first. We completely blew up in each other's faces over it. Homework. That isn't right, is it?"

The stag snorted again knowingly, and maybe it was just coincidence, purely an accident, but in that moment its shoulder bumped against hers, as if he were a friend showing his support.

"I think it'll be ok though, if we can reign our tempers in enough to not kill each other," Lily mused.

"You're lucky," she told the stag with a sigh. "All you have to worry about it finding grass to eat and avoiding all the monsters that live in here with you. If there even _are_ monsters here. Which I highly doubt. Sirius Black – that's my boyfriend's best friend, by the way; a bit of a git, if you ask me but he's a pretty decent guy when he wants to be – he claimed a ferocious werewolf lives here. Obviously not true, but for some reason the guys seemed to find the idea hysterical, even Remus, who I thought would be offended. Idiots."

She stopped at that moment, because she could finally see the creeping light of post-dusk as they neared the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

"Oh!" she cried, turning to the stag and wrapping her arm around him in a grateful embrace, wondering vaguely whether or not she was insane for having a one-sided conversation with a four legged creature. "Thank you!"

The stag simply walked at a leisurely pace by her side, all the way out into the open grounds.

The sun had set, but the western horizon was still a bright golden pink, tinting the walls of the castle a burnt shade of orange.

Lily stopped, however, as she noticed a branch of wood some three feet in front of her, lying forgotten on the grass.

James' broomstick; she was sure of it.

She stared around the grounds, first to the left to the open expanse, all the way to the Black Lake, and then to right, to look past her newfound friend…

"_Jesus Christ!"_ she shrieked, staggering backwards several paces and falling flat on the ground.

The stag had disappeared, and in its place stood James Potter.

Several thoughts ran through the redhead's mind, each one avoiding the most obvious, and yet most impossible, explanation.

"Actually, it's James," he held out his hand to pull her up, but she shook her head, rendered silent as she gasped and gulped in shock.

* * *

Lizzie, having walked into the girl's dormitories to find Juliette and Wendy sprawled on a pile of pillows talking amicably, was not impressed when she was interrupted from her light doze by a loud knocking at the door.

Using Juliette's pillow – seeing as hers was covered in horrid tea stains that seemed to defy the laws of magic by not coming out – she had claimed to be _fine_ when asked what was wrong by her friends and presently closed her eyes, searching for sleep. According to her mother, on one of those rare occasions when the words they exchanged were on a topic other than the Ministry of Magic or Lizzie's general failings, sleepiness when moody was a trait inherited from her Grandfather.

She was vaguely aware, in her semi-conscious state, of a hand stroking her blonde locks off her forehead, and wondered vaguely who it was.

And when she was fully awoken by the thunderous knock on the dormitory door she discovered, to her utter surprise, that it was Juliette. And the brunette, not wanting her friend to be disturbed, urged Wendy to open the door quickly, angry expression ready to shoot at whoever it was standing on the other side.

As it turned out it was a third year, whose name none of the girls could quite recall.

"What do you want?" Juliette snapped, and the girl licked her lips nervously, afraid of the glare the older girl was giving her. Wendy eyed Juliette admonishingly and she eased up, smiling in as friendly a manner as she could. "What can I help you with, sweetie?" Now she simply sounded condescending, something the fourteen year old didn't appreciate.

"Sirius Black wants to talk to Lizzie," she huffed, eyes on the blonde, whom she recognised.

"Well she's not available, as you can see," Juliette growled, to which both Wendy and the third year smiled gently, noticing the way Lizzie rolled her eyes at her friend, sitting up abruptly and causing Juliette to flinch with surprise.

"She is available," Lizzie said reluctantly, crawling out of bed and smoothing her robes self-consciously.

"He's in the common room."

"Thanks," Lizzie mumbled.

"I'll come too," Juliette said in a reassuring voice, but Lizzie patted her dark curls affectionately, shaking her head.

"You shall do no such thing."

And with that she followed the younger student back to the common room, which was full of students chattering and laughing, occasionally grumbling about their workloads. It was stifling in the cramped room, the sheer number of bodies, coupled with the roaring fire in the grate, making the room stuffy and uncomfortable.

"There," the younger girl pointed to a mercifully empty space close to the portrait hole before dancing back towards her friends.

"Thanks," Lizzie patted the third year's retreating shoulder and walked over to the boy with a wary expression on her face.

Once face to face there was an awkward pause as she waited for him begin, her expectant eyes speaking louder than any words she could have possibly said, and when he finally spoke he sounded more nervous than she could ever recall hearing him before.

"I don't know why I said it," he admitted, and for some reason she believed him. Not that this made her feel better in the slightest. "And I know you probably hate me right now, but I thought you'd like to know that Isla hates me too. And, honestly, I hate me too. And Juliette hates me, but that's no change."

He almost achieved the smile he'd hoped to earn with his last throwaway comment, but Lizzie's lips only twitched briefly. Her eyes steeled and she shrugged.

"So? Is that it?"

Sirius panicked briefly. What else was he supposed to say? He rarely apologised to his _best friends_. How was he supposed to know what to say to _girls_?

"Err…yes?"

Lizzie nodded stiffly.

"Very well," she said clinically. "Thanks. Apology accepted. Now leave me alone."

"For good?" Sirius asked loudly as Lizzie stalked back towards the staircase that led to the girl's dorms.

The blonde stopped, turning back to look at him painfully.

"For now." His brow puckered, but before he could speak she continued. "And make sure you apologise to Isla. I can't believe you'd treat her like that."

And with that she walked away, aware of his intense stare in boring into her back, though she used every ounce of willpower to keep her eyes ahead of her. She hoped her confusion didn't show in her face, knowing Juliette would never let her get back to sleep if she noticed.

All she wanted was to sleep the night off.

Sirius, meanwhile, knew the most sensible thing to do would be to go and find Isla.

Sirius was not famous for his sensibility.

He strolled vacantly up the stairs towards his own dormitory, the frown in his brow threatening to become permanent with overuse. He wasn't sadistic; not truly malicious – well, excluding Slytherins, of course, and on occasion Swindon – and he didn't _like_ causing pain. It just seemed to happen. At Grimmauld Place bad things happened around him because it made his life more interesting to upset his mother or taunt Kreacher; at Hogwarts bad things seemed to happen without his authority.

No, he didn't like it one bit.

In his state of foul mood he almost threw the dormitory door open loudly to stomp in with all the force he could muster.

A peculiar sound, however, stopped him, and instead he pushed his ear to the door.

A blush of delighted pride lit up his expression as he recognised the voices, and delicately he opened the door a fraction, face pressed against the crack to peer through nosily.

The sighs – positively _groans_, he corrected internally with smug excitement – were indeed coming from the bed on the left hand side.

Remus' bed.

It took all his willpower not to hoot with victorious glee, making aware his presence.

"Sirius, what are you-"

"Shush!" Sirius hissed, turning to see Peter standing behind him, a perplexed expression on his face. "Go back to the common room!" Sirius ordered in a low voice, ushering the boy away and following hastily, allowing a giggle to escape his grinning lips.

"What's going on?" Peter asked suspiciously, eyes turning back to look at the door, which Sirius had shut as hastily as he dared, not wanting to make a sound.

"Trust me, you don't want to go in yet," Sirius assured his friend, slinging his arm around the younger boy's shoulders and patting his head.

Peter, who looked uncomfortable in his friend's embrace, pulled away.

"Tell me," he insisted. They had finally reached the busy common room once more, and Sirius pulled Peter over to a quiet corner.

"I think our darling Moony is finally getting some," he whispered.

Peter frowned confusedly for a moment, before a look of utter shock blanked his entire face.

"Moony!" he squeaked. "And India-Rose?!"

Sirius snorted.

"No, _Evans_," he drawled. "Of course India-Rose!"

Peter huffed. "No need to be sarcastic," he sniffed.

"No need to be an idiot," Sirius retorted, reaching over to ruffle his mousy brown hair, but again Peter backed away. Sirius paused, eyeing him with curious distrust, and suddenly sighed. "You're not still mad at me too, are you?"

"You're an insensitive git!" Peter cried. "It _sucks_ that that an evil Dark Lord killed Ruth's family? You're rude, Sirius, but I didn't think you were downright _mean_."

"Then you clearly haven't met me," Sirius replied bitterly. "It seems I've been getting a lot of practice at it recently."

Peter smiled sadly, and though he was still annoyed he placed a comforting hand on Sirius' shoulder to show his support. Sirius seemed to appreciate the gesture, because he smiled in return, slumping down on the floor to lean against the wall, patting the ground to gesture that the smaller boy should do the same.

"So, Ruth's back?" he asked.

"Yup," Peter replied.

"You going to hit that?"

"Sirius!" Peter growled darkly, and the black haired boy grinned.

"Sorry, inappropriate. Guess Indy and Moony's romping got me excited."

Peter couldn't quite suppress the grin threatening to lighten his expression, and though he tried for the sake of Moony's honour to rebuke Sirius, he was soon laughing along with the jokes, of which it seemed the older boy had abundance.

* * *

"Nu-uh – no way – Potter - don't you – you-" Lily's breaths whistled sharply to her chest, which was still heaving from her fright, and she could feel her heart tattooing her ribcage in an attempt to escape her body.

"Yeah, something I forgot to mention," James said in a rueful voice. "I'm an Anima-"

"No you're not!" she hissed, emerald eyes widening until tears from the cold sprung in their corners and trickled outwards, clinging to her lashes.

"I am," James said in an apologetic tone, and once more demonstrated a transformation from man to stag and back again.

"You arse, Potter!" Lily leapt to her feet, beating him on the chest and around the head before he could back away. "How. Dare. You. Leave. Me. I. Should. Break. Up. With. You. Right. Now!" with every syllable she hit him again, and on the final word she kicked her right knee upwards, connecting with his groin with all the strength she could gather. He hit the ground with an agonised groan.

"Oh Merlin, Lily!" he mumbled, his hands pressed against his crotch protectively. "I'm sorry!" he managed to say between grunts of pain. "I thought it—would be a nice—joke!"

"Nice!" Lily bellowed. "_Nice_?"

"Okay, not nice—" James huffed. "But…funny?"

Lily narrowed her eyes.

But her stubbornness had a limit, and her curiosity swiftly got the better of her. Staring down at James, who remained crouched on the floor afraid to move, she smiled appreciatively, though her eyes remained dangerously thin slits as she glared at him from above.

"When?" she enquired lightly.

"Fifth year," he grunted.

"Really? How long did you work on it for?"

"Since third year."

He spoke in gasps and briefly raised one hand in front of his face, just to make sure there was no blood.

Lily bit her lip, wanting to show how impressed she was but holding back.

"You're breaking the law, you know," she informed him unhelpfully.

"We're aware."

"We?" Lily asked shrewdly.

James, who had slumped into a lying position, rolled over cautiously to meet her gaze.

"Peter and Sirius," he said in an obvious voice.

Lily considered this, and something clicked in her head.

"Prongs…"

James grinned, shrugging innocently.

"So that makes Peter a…rat? Snake?"

"Rat," James corrected hastily, nodding.

"And Sirius…a dog? Cat? Something with paws."

"A dog," the boy clarified, and Lily laughed softly, reaching down to pull James up.

He was halfway to his feet, however, when Lily abruptly let go, sending him sprawling back on the grass again.

"A dog," she said darkly, clearly some greater meaning now in this revelation. "A _large black dog_?"

James' sheepish smile was enough of a confession.

"I'm going to skin him alive with my nails," Lily growled, blazing eyes full of hot rage.

"Whatever you like, but you can't let the other girls know!" James insisted. "India-Rose knows, but that's it. No-one can know."

Lily raised her eyebrows coldly.

"Oh? What's this, a Girlfriend-of-Marauder club? We can be in the know if we date one of you?"

James scrambled to his feet, wincing as he steadied himself.

"Please, Lily," he begged, his expression sincere. "I wanted you to know, and India-Rose worked it out. You can't tell the others, I'm begging you."

Lily's lower lip trembled obstinately, and in her eyes James could see her reluctance.

"I've always told Juliette everything," she said guiltily.

"Not anymore," James said with a sigh.

Lily clenched her fists, fighting the urge to kick the boy again.

"I don't want to lie to my best friend for you, James!"

Guilt ridden, James stared down at the ground dejectedly. He already knew that. He knew how close Juliette and Lily were, though they rarely showed it the way James and Sirius showed their partiality towards one another. Their closeness was locked away in some distantly metaphorical safe, to be opened in secret. James knew of it only because of his long-lasting friendship with Juliette and his more recent intimacy with Lily.

And he knew how Lily hated to lie.

"If I ever needed to repay your for it – I can keep secrets from Sirius."

Lily laughed derisively, though her eyes did warm a little at the lost puppy look in his frown.

"Oh really? And that makes it all better does it?"

"No, it doesn't," James said sharply. "But it's the best I've got, Lily! I'm sorry for trusting you, or for wanting you to know more about me. I'll keep my mouth shut next time, shall I? I thought I was showing how much you meant to me, telling you one my biggest secrets! I can take it back, if you want, but I warn you I haven't had much practice at obliviate yet."

A silence fell between the two, and Lily could see the genuine apology in James' expression. She knew he meant well, but she hated to lie so much! It wasn't fair. After nearly seven years how could she start lying to Juliette now?

Still, James was right. What could he offer to make up for it? Not much at all. She would have to make do.

"All right," she said quietly, reaching over to take his hand and squeezing his fingers gently. "I won't say a word."

James sighed a loud breath of relief, clutching her fingers in return gratefully. He knew how high a price Lily lying was, and he thanked her with a kiss.

Picking up his broom James joined Lily in a stroll back towards the castle. The redhead turned to peer inquisitively at him, a secretive smile pulling at her lips.

"So, if you started in third year, how did you…"

* * *

It was late, and it concerned Remus that none of his friends had come up to the dormitory yet.

Relieved too, on tonight of all nights, but concerned nonetheless. Half an hour before India-Rose had kissed him one final time and hastily left, dashing away no doubt to _spill the beans_ to whomever she found in her dorm when she got back.

But not a sight to be seen of Sirius, James, _or_ Peter, and that worried Remus.

Paranoia was a common side effect of being friends with such people, particularly the former two.

Before his concerns could reach the point of alarm, however, in strolled a smug, strutting Sirius Black, who grinned flirtatiously at Remus, complete with a wink and faux coy wave.

"What do you want?" the sandy haired boy asked shrewdly as Sirius flopped onto his own bed with a dramatic exhalation. The dreamy glaze to the boy's grey eyes did not bode well for anyone.

"You two should go professional," Sirius replied cryptically.

"What are you talking about, Sirius?" Remus demanded impatiently, unnerved by the unmoving stare of the older boy.

"Don't you play ignorant with me, Mister," Sirius commanded in his best, superior tone. "I've seen the movies those muggles make. You should totally make a career out of it."

"Out of _what_?" Remus cried, going spare with anxiety.

At this Sirius' brow creased in a gooey eyed look of intense ecstasy, his lips parted as he sighed softly. "_Oh, Remus, yes! Ooh, yes, Remus, Remus, oh. Oh!_"

Remus visibly blanched, his face a mask of horror.

"You piece of dragon shit, Sirius Black!" he screeched as Sirius roared with laughter, both at his friend and his own joke.

At least until Remus whipped his wand out and began charming his own pillows to smother him.

"No — Reems — Remus! No – hmm – Remus!" he squawked between mouthfuls of pillow, and with all his might he wrenched the cushions away from his face, mirthful laughter ringing through the dormitory as Remus shrank beneath his duvet, hoping to be swallowed whole by his bed and never spat out again. "Be glad I noticed in time," Sirius assured him, as if thinking this would make him feel better. "Now _that_ would have been embarrassing. The God of Sex walking in while you're popping your cherry."

From beneath the duvet Remus' wand protruded only long enough to fire a random, _fairly _harmless curse at the teasing boy, who ducked just in time.

"I am a mentally deranged masochist," Remus grumbled into his mattress.

"How so, Loverboy?" Sirius enquired tauntingly, leaping across the room and throwing himself onto his friend's bed to pat the lump he thought was his head.

"Why else would I repeatedly subject myself to the torture that is your friendship?" he asked in a hopeless, desperate whimper of a voice.

"I love you, Remus," Sirius said with a husky laugh, reaching down to kiss the lump that he was now certain as Remus' head through the duvet.

"No you do not," a grumpy voice replied, muffled by the bedding but still very audible, his cantankerous tone perfectly clear.

"Oh but I do," the black haired boy insisted. "Classic, priceless entertainment in the comfort of my own room: what more could I want? And I thought Prongs was amusement enough for one."

"I aim to please," Remus grumped.

"That a boy," Sirius sighed in a fatherly voice. "I'm proud of you. My ickle boy's all grown up. Finally, I can sleep sound knowing he's not a nancy."

At this Remus shot another spell at him, but Sirius dodged it once more.

"All right, all right!" he cried. "I'll stop now, I promise." He thought he may have heard a _doubt it_ from Remus, but if he did he ignored it. "So, where's Prongsie boy? Peter's gone running off to find his new girlfriend, but our resident grass eater seems to have vanished along with our resident redheaded beauty."

Sirius leapt over to the window, as if hoping to spy his best friend somewhere in the grounds, though by now it was almost pitch black outside.

Of course he saw nothing, but he continued to stare out into the night sky nonetheless, wondering at nothing in particular as he waited for his friend to come out from his turtle shell duvet and show his blushing face again.

* * *

Though it couldn't possibly have been six o'clock in the evening before James and Lily found their way out of the Forbidden Forest, by the time they reached the castle it was past curfew and night had well and truly fallen over the grounds. Thankfully as Head Boy and Girl they knew all the necessary passwords. Though, of course, this in no way decreased the risk of running into someone they would rather avoid.

It seemed they had forgotten that also as Head Boy and Girl they had the ability to pass off as being on extra rounds should they happen to come across any teachers or fellow students.

"We are so late!" Lily hissed as they hastened across the deserted Entrance Hall.

"Don't pretend you didn't have fun," James smirked, reaching over to pluck a leaf out of the girl's flaming hair, delighted by her crimson blush at his words as he grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the upwards staircase and across to the downwards one that led ultimately to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Where do you think you're taking me?" Lily demanded, heaving her body backwards, but James simply steeled his grip, hoisting harder. "Ow! James! Where are we going?"

"Kitchens," James said innocently. "Don't know about you but I'm starving."

Lily considered his suggestion, and as if to help prove his point further the girl's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly.

The redhead grinned deviously.

"Oh, very well," she snickered, and together they darted down the dimly lit corridor with stealthy movements, each suppressing moans of anticipation at the thought of food, having missed dinner in exchange for getting lost in a dark, wild forest.

Unsurprisingly, despite the lateness of the hour they were welcomed warmly by the house elves, all of whom squeaked with glee at their arrival, ushering them inside and offering them an endless list of snacks to munch on.

It took a while but finally the pair convinced the elves that all they wanted was a sandwich each – ham salad for James, egg mayonnaise for Lily.

James pulled a disgusted face at his girlfriend's choice, but Lily merely smiled openly, chewing contentedly and groaning with satisfaction as it hit the bottom of her empty stomach with a gurgle.

Walking back, it was as the opening archway linking the kitchens corridor and the Entrance Hall was visible that they noticed two people stood clustered together, a distinctly conspiratorial air surrounding them.

Stealing into the shadows the two fled the open corridor, and in the dark Lily silently cast a disillusionment charm over them both.

After a moment Lily recognised one voice to be that of the Slytherin seventh year prefect Gilbert Swanning, and both began to listen intently.

"_But what does Regulus actually know?" _The second figure was also a boy and possibly also a seventh year though he was at least a head shorter, his voice scratchy and low.

"_The basics," _Swanning snapped, sounding impatient, and as they watched he glanced around nervously, looking uncomfortable under the quizzing of the smaller student. _"I told you, I want him on board but not strictly involved. The kid's in sixth year, no sense doing premature damage."_

"_But if he knew what you-"_

"_I know! He'd never agree, but he doesn't know and it's going to stay that way, understood? Understood?"_ Swanning demanded angrily.

"_Yes," _the anonymous student mumbled, his head bowed dejectedly.

"_If you have questions stop coming to me, too," _the prefect continued.

"_But I-"_

"_Snape's the one to go to, not me,_" Swanning said shortly. "_Now I've got to get out of here, I should be on duty with Rucinski by now. Get back to your dorm before someone sees you!"_

The student, whoever he was, nodded, almost as if he was bowing to the prefect, and ran hastily out of his way in the direction of the dungeons.

Swanning did not move immediately, frowning at the floor and gritting his teeth. He pressed a hand to his forehead to remove the creases that had appeared. He seemed deeply troubled, and the slump in his shoulders only emphasised this as slowly he began to walk away, through the entrance hall and up the stairs in search of his fellow Slytherin prefect, Ketura Rucinski.

Lily and James waited for as long as possible before so much as breathing again, and when they did they stared at one another, their confusion mirrored in one another's expressions.

"We have to tell someone," James said. Lily nodded, though she didn't appear entirely enthused.

"But tell what? We overheard two Slytherins talking? They didn't _say_ anything, James."

"He talked about premature damage!" James cried hoarsely.

"Yes," Lily huffed. "To a fellow _Slytherin_, I doubt they're planning a surprise attack on their own younger students," she pointed out, eyebrows raised pointedly.

James wasn't so easily convinced.

"I think there's something going on."

"Of course there's something going on," the girl snapped. She grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of their hiding place and storming along their route to the Gryffindor Tower in the far north of the castle. "There's always something going on. But unless we have any proof of something serious we can't do a thing, and neither can any teachers. All we can do is keep a lookout for anything suspicious."

James, making a _psshh_ noise cynically, only growled under his breath, following the girl up a second flight of stairs and almost toppling over the trick step in his distractedness.

Something was wrong, and he would be damned if he was going to let the Slytherins get away with it this time around.


	21. Thunder and Lightning

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**20. Thunder and Lightning**

_**Of apple pie, unicorn breeding, and an invisible sword.**_

_My dear James,_

_I'm sorry it's been so long since my last letter, things have been getting quite busy and I've been so distracted your father and I have barely had time to think. But don't worry, we're both well and I hope you are the same – keep studying hard!_

_I'm so pleased to hear you've finally won over that lovely girl Lily. I tell you, boy, I find out more about what's going on in your life from Sirius than from you! And as your father would say, don't take her for granted. Love's a precious thing, and you shouldn't go wasting it._

_That said, if I hear one word of your romance distracting you from your studies I'll inform your father immediately and see what he has to say on the subject. Remember what happened last time?_

_Speaking of your father, he's away on another job for the Aurors. They've just recruited a new squadron – do you remember that charming young man Edmund Sunman, the son of one of your father's old colleagues? Well, he's just joined, too – and your father's one of the few that's filled his teaching quota. Don't worry, Rob's with him, and I'm sure they'll be fine. He told me he'd send you a letter as soon as he can, we both know how you worry._

_My darling James, I have to go now, because it looks as if it is going to rain soon and I'd hate to send Hetty out in a storm._

_All my love, and make sure you share the apple pie with Sirius. You know how he whines when you don't._

_Your Mother_

The apple pie, which was surrounded by countless protective enchantments to keep it perfect, lay forgotten by James' side as he read through the letter over and over, analysing every word until it was memorised. Hetty, a magnificent Eagle Owl who was older than James but still full of life, ruffled her feathers as she waited for permission to leave.

James waved his hand at her before she could start hooting at him, aware of her taking off through the window in his peripheral vision but not bothering to watch, too deeply engrossed in his mother's note.

He was sitting on the windowsill, legs squashed beneath him, and he was alone. It was a Friday night; everyone was celebrating the commencing of the weekend in the common room, leaving him to his thoughts in peace.

This was how Lily found him, hunched against the window, a slightly crumpled roll of parchment in his hand and an apple pie in danger of getting squashed by his knees next to him. He wore a warm pair of robes but he was shivering slightly, eyes resting on nothing in particular.

"James!" she cried, moving the pie before pulling him off the sill and over to his bed, where she pushed him onto the mattress and hastened to sit by his side. "What on earth's wrong?" she demanded.

The boy, finally wrenching himself from his reverie, met her gaze with concerned hazel eyes, the usual twinkling mischief dimmed, though whether it was with his mood or simply the light Lily couldn't tell.

"Just a letter from my mum," he sighed, folding it in half, suddenly alert and businesslike. "Nothing important," he reached over to kiss her temple gratefully, taking her hand to squeeze it gently.

"Clearly," Lily replied, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"No, really," James grinned lightly. "She mentioned you, actually." This successfully distracted the redhead, whose brow puckered in panic. "Nothing bad, honestly. Apparently Sirius told her about us in his last letter."

"Sirius writes to your mum?"

James laughed.

"Well he isn't going to write to his own mum, is he?" he scoffed.

Lily shrugged. "I guess I never thought about it before. You know, my days aren't spent idly considering the many happenings of the busy lives of the Marauders."

"Apple pie?" James offered, holding up the plate to her innocently. "Best you'll ever taste. Quick, before Sirius smells it from downstairs and snatches it."

Lily, grinning guiltily, grabbed a piece, the pie having been sliced by the maker before being sent, and bit into it with devilish delight.

"Good?" James asked as a look of melting satisfaction filled her expression.

"Mhmm," Lily nodded fervently, swallowing hard. "Definitely. Gosh, I have to meet your mum. The best my mum can bake is misshaped chocolate chip cookies, most of which aren't cooked all the way through. She can cook anything, but she completely fails at baking."

James nodded slowly, not really listening as he concentrated on his own slice of apple filled pastry.

They sat content for a while, gladly munching their way through Jacinta Potter's gift – Lily guilty faced as she took a second slice, James proudly greedy as he devoured a third – their idle talk of nothing more than their plans for Saturday.

Saturday would be James' last Saturday Quidditch practice before the first match of the season the following Saturday: Gryffindor vs Slytherin. Technicallyhe had remained true to his mother's apparent wishes – his romance would _never_ get in the way of studies, given how dedicated Lily herself was – instead allowing himself to be distracted by Quidditch.

If, of course, distracted was a synonym for stirring a mutual hatred for himself among the rest of his team, with wake up calls as early as five in morning practices and not stopping until almost midnight on evenings.

If so, yes, James was indeed very much distracted.

"You do realise that if you tire your team out completely they're not going to be able to perform their best for the match because, you know, _you'll have killed them_."

James smiled, waving an airy hand and stretching backwards to lie against the headboard, pulling Lily over to fit under his arm. The redhead, not mistaking _I'll sidetrack her to shut her up _for a romantic gesture, rolled her eyes.

"James?" she asked when he didn't respond.

"Lily," he sighed. "Lily, Lily, Lily! Since when did you become an expert in Quidditch training?"

"Since I spent a good deal of my waking time listening to you talk about it for almost three months."

James, a witty reply ready at his lips, paused. His shifty hazel eyes found hers and to Lily's astonished amusement he looked nervous.

"Yes, James?" she asked sweetly.

"You don't..." the boy wrinkled his nose feverishly. "You don't like, need a three month anniversary present, do you?"

Lily, throwing her back and hooting with laughter, twisted her torso around to kiss his cheek between giggles.

"How romantic," she murmured, her lips never quite leaving the boy's skin. "But no, I don't. Happy now?"

A guilty James grinned sheepishly back at her. "I mean, I'll get you one if you want one, but-"

"Earth to Potter, come in Potter, where are you Potter?" A hand flapped in front of his face, dragging his gaze back to the girl's face. "I honestly don't want a three month anniversary present. Jamie, I hated that when I was going out with Elliot Cauldwell in fourth year, and I wasn't even fifteen."

She raised an eyebrow, earning another, more confident laugh from the boy.

"Now, back to the _actual_ topic at hand."

"Which is?"

"Your team!" Lily sighed in exasperation, flicking the boy's forehead. "You know, six tired Gryffindors and the distinct possibility of either your murder, or their deaths by exhaustion."

"They'll be fine. We have bigger things to worry about," he mumbled, frowning as he shifted his pillow higher and looked up, wondering why his bed had one pillow and Sirius' had three.

"Oh yes? Bigger than the fact even your best friend walked out on you at practice on Wednesday night?"

James nodded, looking stern, and decided to retrieve his stolen pillow later.

"How about it's been almost a _week_ since we overheard the you-know-what and I'm thinking we need to do you-know-what about it." James' face, so prone to smiling, had turned grave, his eyes full of suspicion. Lily, however, did not seem to share his concerns.

"And what do you plan to do, exactly? You've been a bit inactive yourself, you know."

"I've had Quidditch!"

"And you clearly aren't worried if you're putting students' safety beneath your game in your list of priorities."

"And you think taunting Sirius for a week by leaving stuffed toys of black dogs everywhere for him to find is more important, do you?"

Lily, very proud of herself, frowned, eyes glancing towards the door as if expecting to see the boy listening in on their conversation. "Yes, I do. You know why? _Because there's nothing going on!_" she snapped, sitting up away from James' chest and wriggling back to put a few inches of distance between them.

"Well I beg to differ," James mumbled grumpily.

"Oh you do, do you? Well that's too bad. Guess we'll have to agree to disagree, won't we?" Lily grumbled. She waited for James to dissect, analyse and understand her sentence before continuing. "You know, for all we know it could be a joke like the sort you Marauders pull. Not all Slytherins are evil, James."

The Marauder sat at her side made a _psht_ sound, his breath whistling between his teeth, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sorry," he groaned, voice dripping sarcasm. "Forgot you were in love with Snivellus."

"I am not in love with him," Lily said monotonously, bored with this argument, which they had repeated twice this week already. "I don't even like him-"

"Well you _should_ hate him."

"No I should not!" Lily cried. "James, we may not be friends anymore, but for a long time he...he was my-my best friend!-"

"-Don't tell Jules that-"

"And I don't think I should forget that. And I don't want you snooping around getting yourself into trouble just for the sake of trying to catch Snape or anyone else doing something wrong."

Lily's cheeks were darkening in her frustration, and her red hair was spilling out of the ponytail she had scraped it into, wisps of fiery blonde falling into her angry green eyes. She looked at him pointedly, a challenge in her expression. "Promise me you won't get into a fight with them, James."

James nodded, not quite looking at his girlfriend, who grabbed his chin and forced him to look up.

"Promise me?"

"Hmmphmm..."

"James, promise me you won't."

James smiled warmly, if a little reluctantly, taking her hand and clasping it tightly. "I promise," he assured her. And, reaching over to the half empty plate by his side, held the gift from his mother out to her. "More pie?"

Lily, satisfied with his reply, smiled ruefully. "Well, if you're going to _force _it on me..."

* * *

The Slytherin common room was full, and the chatter of students was even louder than usual as many of those in the younger years gathered around Regulus Black and his best friend, Beatrice Radisson, as they talked all about their plans for the next Quidditch match against Gryffindor. It seemed the entire house was on edge, waiting for the defeat of the red and gold team, while only a few were aware of just how important this game was going to be.

Severus Snape, however, was not listening to the two sixth years and their excitable propaganda on the importance of beating Potter and Black's match. Alone in a corner he remained surrounded by books, with one given particular attention, his quill working fast and his brand new ink pot nearly half empty already.

He was so lost in his notes that he almost failed to notice the figure approaching him, and it was only once MacNair had taken a seat opposite him (the scattered books preventing the boy from sitting too close) that he finally looked up and acknowledged his fellow seventh year's presence. He waited patiently for MacNair to stop trying to read his scribbled writing upside down, and once the boy had come to the conclusion it was impossible, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"What are you working on now, then?" the boy asked, his voice low and full of suppressed delight. His squashed smile only emphasised the malice in his excitement, and Snape glanced down at the book on his lap thoughtfully.

"Nothing of use," he muttered, scoring a line through half a paragraph.

"Come on," MacNair muttered, "You're always working on stuff! You tell me everything," he reminded the boy. "Just tell me what you're doing."

Winston MacNair had never been what Severus could consider to be an ideal companion. He was, however, an ideal confidante. Reluctantly he nodded slowly, leaning over to speak as quietly as he could, his book shielded from his friend's sight by his hand.

"I'm working on a sister piece for the splitting spell."

A confidante, yes, but _Sectumsempra _was just too useful a word to say aloud to anyone; for now, at least. The hungry gleam in MacNair's eyes sparkled.

"What does it do?" he insisted.

"I was thinking if you could successfully break a bone without splitting the skin..."

"There is either something very wrong or very right with your brain, Severus Snape," MacNair cackled under his breath, shaking his head in wonder at this boy, both peer and idol, looking mightily impressed.

"But it's not working properly."

"How are you testing it?"

"Same as the others," Severus replied coolly. "I still have that old tabby cat we found in fourth year. She catches pretty much everything. Rats are the best, though."

"Ahh," MacNair nodded. "That makes sense. So what's going wrong?"

Severus' cheeks puffed slightly in indignant embarrassment, his colouring darkening to a blotchy red. "I can't seem to control the breaking. I hit one bone and all the others around it shatter, too. Not so bad when it's just a leg, or an arm," he muttered, frowning hard at his notes as if trying to will them to make sense. "But try break one rib and the entire ribcage shatters. A splinter could pierce the heart, a lung, could kill instantly...and if that doesn't happen, you'll still have all the organs unable to stay in place, so they'll just spill everywhere and the victim will die anyway, most likely. Not a very effective torture method if they die on the first hit, is it?"

MacNair appeared unsure whether to hoot with glee and lean back, afraid. "You know what, Snape? With all this madness you can come up with? I reckon the Dark Lord wouldn't care even if you were a mudblood," he smirked, but Severus' eyes flashed.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you. Wouldn't want word to get around, would you? The Dark Lord might not appreciate you making assumptions, and we know at least one person here has already spoken with him before." His eyes rested briefly on Regulus Black, still entertaining the younger students with explanations of grandly humiliating their Gryffindor enemies.

"Just saying," MacNair mumbled sulkily, "You're pretty good, Snape." He stood lazily, brushing himself down and nodding to his friend. "You ready for next week?"

"How do you know about that?" Severus demanded.

"Who can charm away a lock better than Winston MacNair?" the standing boy asked smugly. "Looks like I'm needed, too. Good luck with the spell, Snape. Let me know how it's coming along."

Severus' eyes followed the boy as he walked across the room and began trailing up the stairs to the dormitory, hoping beyond hope that their plan didn't disappoint. It seemed a great deal of house morale was resting on his spells and imagination.

* * *

It was at times like this that Juliette deeply regretted the day she agreed to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team. At least it was dry, she tried to tell herself as she soared through the air, trying to remember whether James wanted her up front or defending behind, but this was a small mercy. Through the dry air cut a wind so furious she could almost feel her skin peeling at the force, something not helped by the speed at which their enthused captain had them flying.

Her hands were so cold it was a physical pain to bend her fingers, let alone catch and throw a Quaffle, but she ignored the stinging tears in her eyes as she followed James and Marianna's quick pass strategy, reaching the opposite goal in record time before doubling back to join her.

"Your turn, Jules!" James bellowed, but with the wind's howls she still had to thank her ability to lip read.

"James, we've been at this for hours!" the right wing beater, Christian Sunderland, called over, coming to halt in front of the captain.

"Suck it up!" Sirius ordered waspishly. He was yet to forgive the sixth year for mistreating Lizzie, and had taken to belittling him at every opportunity since the Christmas party last term. In truth, however, even Juliette could see that behind his words Sirius secretly agreed with the boy.

"One-two-three-go!" James shouted, before rocketing across to the other side of the pitch.

Delaying only a moment, Juliette soon caught up with him and reached out her left hand to grab the large red ball tossed to her. On the third pass the ball met her fingers with a harsh slapping sound that reached her even through the rushing winds, and a blinding pain shot up her arm. The Quaffle forgotten as it tumbled to the ground, Juliette retracted her hand, pressing it protectively to her abdomen and dropping to the grass below.

"Juliette!" James leapt lightly off his broom, the anger in his expression dissipating as he saw her cradling her fingers. "Are you alright?"

"Damn cold!" she screeched, her eyes puffy with tears.

"Let's take a look," Iain said softly, having flown down from the goalposts to see what everyone was gathering around. He accepted her reluctantly outstretched hand, grasping her wrist tightly to keep her from bringing it back in, and inspected her bruised fingers as delicately as possible, turning her hand over to look. "I think these two at least are broken," he mumbled apologetically, indicating the middle and ring finger, and the girl hissed as his touch brushed them accidentally.

"Ahh, come on!" James cried in frustration, stamping his foot.

"I suppose I could still play, I'll just-"

"No, Jules. I'm the Captain; I'm not an imbecile. Everyone! Game over," James said dejectedly, glowering at the hoots of delight as they turned in the direction of the changing rooms, Iain and the seeker, Andrea Gregors, running to gather up the equipment.

Juliette rushed to snatch her things up with her right hand, not bothering to get changed before announcing she was going to visit Madam Worrell in the hospital wing.

"I'll come too," James sighed. "It was my fault you-"

"No, it's fine. You take your time," Juliette smiled painfully. "I'll be fine on my own. Don't worry about it, Jamie."

"You look after yourself for Saturday, Miss!" the boy shouted hoarsely after her as her curls whipped out of sight through the door. He massaged his throat, wincing, and he glared at Sirius' snicker. "What?"

"You've outdone yourself this time, Prongs," Sirius shook his head, impressed. "Broken Swindon's fingers, you made Marianna fall off her broom on Tuesday, and you've lost your voice already. You normally save that for the night before the match."

"I have not lost my voice," James muttered. "I've just..."

"Damaged your vocal chords?"

"Yes, that's it. They'll be fine soon."

Sirius grinned, smoothing his robes and bundling his Quidditch gear into his bag. "Nothing a good bit of smooching Evans won't solve, I bet?"

"Oh, and do you think a bit of _smooching _Darcy will help your broken nose?"

Sirius waved a hand of surrender in the air as the pair walked out of the changing rooms, the others having changed and left at lightning speed in their relief at finishing a gruelling practice session.

Together they made their way back to the castle, slowly treading up the old path to the Entrance, now, warmer on the ground and deaf to the buffeting wind. Sirius, knees weak and arms heavy from repeatedly smacking the bludgers around, groaned in triumph as they entered the warm, enclosed castle, though it was with a trace of bitterness at his long walk that he began the ascent up the staircase in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower.

They were silent for a while, James rubbing his throat but Sirius, after pondering as he frowned at the stone ground, broke the calm before they reached the first floor.

"I've been thinking-"

"Congratulations!" James cried sarcastically, lazily slapping Sirius on the back as they strolled past a portrait of two nattering witches in widows' black outfits.

"_I've been thinking_," Sirius repeated, growling playfully at his best friend. "And I realised it's been far too long since we did anything remotely Marauderish. Exactly a month, to be exact. It's time to act."

James, eyebrows raised at Sirius sentence, grinned. "Oh? And what _exactly_ did you have in mind?"

Sirius, failing to see the joke, continued to muse aloud in a concerned tone.

"I'm thinking grand scale...in the Great Hall...like that Christmas we had here because your parents were off saving the world or whatever. Remember?"

"You mean fifth year?"

"That would probably be the one, whatever." Sirius shook away any importance of the date with a wave of his hand. Before he could expand upon this James intervened.

"Yes, I remember. I also remember there wasn't much _'we'_ about it, if by _'we'_ you are including yourself. You said we should victimise Slytherin. _I _came up with the idea _and _bought the toy lions. And it was _Moony _that actually charmed them all to can-can dance on the Slytherin tables. Your contribution was minimal."

Sirius, affronted by James' lack of faith in his role as a Mischievous Marauder, huffed loudly, pulling his bag a little higher on his shoulder and sticking his nose high in the air.

"Fine," he snapped in a voice of hurt pride. "I'll do it all myself."

"Oh really?" the taller boy asked disbelievingly.

"Yes."

"Padfoot," James placed a comforting hand on his friend's arm. "You're too lazy to do a prank all by yourself."

"Am not!" Sirius screeched, stumbling as he almost forgot to miss out a trick step in his indignation. They had finally reached a set of moving staircases, and they had to wait a moment, giving him time to turn to James and look him directly in the eye. "I'll prove it to you. Slytherins; Great Hall; grand scale. Right? No help from you _or_ Moony."

"Or Wormtail," James added as they continued walking again, pointing a warning finger.

Sirius, however, scoffed loudly.

"Please, Prongs. Give me a _little_ credit..." They turned and found themselves on a long corridor lined with suits of armour, the likes of which they had hidden behind countless times to avoid detection when not under the cover of the invisibility cloak. Here they found themselves looking upon two figures walking towards them, heads down and voices quiet. "Oho! Speak of the devil," Sirius whispered in victorious glee. "The little wretch, look who he's with!"

James, eyeing Peter, who along with Ruth Saldana was still out of earshot, leaned over to Sirius. "Calm down, Padfoot."

"Oh Prongsie, this one's too good to miss!" And taking a deep breath to shout down the corridor, Sirius began to bellow, much to James' chagrin. "Wormtail! Oh _Woooorrrmmmtaaaiil! Coo-ee!_" Sirius waved frantically and Peter stopped, looking mortified. Holding Ruth's elbow in a kindly gesture he murmured something to her and she nodded.

They parted ways, Ruth slipping past the two boys without looking up as Peter halted in front of his friends, looking somewhat pleased to see them, though obviously unimpressed by the method with which Sirius had addressed him.

"What do you want, Padfoot?" When Sirius simply smiled at him fondly he turned to James, who looked equally confused by the boy's expression. "Why's he looking at me like that?"

"Ma wee bairn's all grown up!" Sirius cried in a diabolical attempt at his girlfriend's Scottish accent, and James made a mental note to himself to remind Sirius never to repeat it in front of Isla.

"Shut up," Peter grumbled as they traipsed down the corridor, all in a line with Peter in the middle, stumpy compared to his two tall friends.

"Oh Peter, you're so cute when you blush...has your girlfriend noticed that yet?" Sirius enquired delightedly.

"She is not my girlfriend and I am not blushing!" Peter snarled as politely as he could.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Wormy dearest!" Sirius ruffled the boy's mousy hair condescendingly. "If anything it's a shame you've taken this long to get around to it. Seems you might have to settle for sloppy seconds..."

Peter, the crude hint not lost on him, glared at the boy to his right. "For your information, seeing as you don't tend to keep a record, you've never dated Ruth."

"Well of course I haven't, Peter. Most probably on account of the fact that I am attracted to _women_." Before he could even laugh at his joke Peter pushed him firmly.

"Oh just leave me alone, Sirius!" He didn't have time to notice the apology in James' face as he took a left turn to storm angrily away.

"_What? Oh, go sulk then!_" he heard Sirius grumble, and he thought he heard James say something back, but he was too far away to make out any other words.

Maybe it was a joke, just a wind up, and if Prongs had said it he might - _might - _have laughed it off with a punch on the arm. But he couldn't tell with Padfoot, and that frustrated him too much to take any more goading about Ruth.

Did he like Ruth? Maybe – yes, he quite possibly did. But why should he get mocked for it? If anything Peter felt proud of having a much cleaner track record than his two fellow Gryffindors. He didn't need to have a lot of sexual experience and a long list of past girlfriends to feel good about himself.

Too lost in his humiliated anger Peter didn't notice he was walking up to a group of boys before it was too late.

The Slytherins, having noticed a Gryffindor in their midst, turned as one to sneer triumphantly at the lonely boy.

"Why, hello Pettigrew! Lost your little friends, I see," Gilbert Swanning said with a smirk. Behind him stood four more boys, including sixth year Roger Franklin and seventh year Severus Snape. They all chuckled darkly at Swanning's tone of innocence as he stood a good two paces in front of his friends.

"Sorry, I-I-" Peter began, the frightened blush in his cheeks darkening every second.

"We've actually just been talking about them, haven't we boys?" Swanning asked, and was responded to with a series of snickers. "Could you take a message back to them for us?"

* * *

"Can I interrupt?"

Lizzie looked up, though by the bubbly Scottish accent she already knew the identity of the intruder. So she looked up and into the face of Isla Darcy, who took a hesitant seat. The Library was full, and the blonde had only managed to find an empty table at the very back of the room, near the Restricted Section. She had thought herself likely to remain undisturbed, invisible to everyone else. Apparently not.

"Is that Care of Magical Creatures?" Isla asked, indicating the essay Lizzie had been working on in her solitude.

Lizzie nodded, and for a moment forgot her frostiness as she stared, intrigued, into the girl's eyes, the right a sapphire blue almost as deep as India-Rose's, the left jade green, darker than Lily's and not quite as bright. "Yes, it is..."

"Mind giving me a few tips? I'm totally lost on what to do. If I'm not careful I reckon Peart is going to officially fail me before I even get the exam done. Unicorn breeding, I take it?" her gaze travelled to the open book, spotting a page covered in diagrams of the skeletal differences between captivated British unicorns and the wild unicorns of the Americas.

Lizzie didn't reply as she stared at the girl, who ran a hand nervously through her uneven fringe that fell into her equally uneven eyes, briefly reminding her of James Potter. Isla licked her lips, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

Lizzie could have pretended to misunderstand the question and think she meant here and now, as opposed to the generally _I-know-my-boyfriend's-an-arse-who-hurt-you-are-you -ok-with-it-all? _

She didn't bother.

"Look, Isla." Lizzie leaned over the table as she spoke, placing a hand flat on the polished wood, her eyes full of something akin to sympathy. "You're a lovely girl. You really are. Sixth year I thought you were amazing. And yeah, you are, I suppose. But now? I care about you, I honestly do. I care about you the way I care about a lot of other people. I want you to do well, in life as well as school. I want you to be happy, and I hope things work out for you.

"But out of school? I'm not going to keep in touch with you. I'm not going to send you cards and leave room in my calendar for catch up sessions lunches. Sure, if I see you in the street I'll nod, maybe give a little hello. If we go to the same party I might share a drink and ask what you're up to, how work's going...

"That's it. I don't need your friendship, Isla. I don't need you to let me know how sorry you are. I don't need you to be friends with me just because I'm friends with Sirius. I'm sure we'll co-exist quite nicely without having to hang out when everyone else isn't around. And I kind of assumed that when I told Sirius I wanted him to leave me alone, it would mean you would leave me alone, too."

Isla's eyes flashed, her lips parting as a small breath of exclamation escaped from the base of her throat.

"He didn't tell you that?" Lizzie asked with a short laugh, rolling her eyes when the girl opposite her shook her head. "How kind of him. So you see what I'm saying? I'm sorry, but just because I promised I didn't want to get in between the two of you it doesn't mean I need you parading around in front of me."

"But I didn't-"

"I know," Lizzie interrupted again. "But please just leave. Because to be honest, Isla, I know you beat me in the last test for Care of Magical Creatures, and I know you got an O in your last essay."

As Isla stood the entire room, though full of no more than hushed voices, seemed to grow louder. The room seemed suddenly hotter as a flush filled her cheeks and she pressed her lips together. She didn't bother voicing her apology, conveying it only in her expression before leaving swiftly, her ears burning.

Had she looked back, she might have been able to read the regret in the blonde Gryffindor's face, and she would have known how very difficult it had been for Lizzie to push her friendship away. But she didn't.

* * *

"_What? Oh, go sulk then! _What's his problem?" Sirius muttered as Peter strode away, his grey eyes full of impatience as he made to keep walking down the corridor.

James exhaled loudly and pointedly, drawing the boy's attention back to his face. "Was that completely necessary?"

Sirius smiled simply. "Well, no...but admit it, Prongs. It made you smile just a little bit."

James, keeping his face neutral to avoid appeasing the older boy, spoke firmly. "No. It was mean, Padfoot."

Sirius stopped in his tracks, ostentatiously looking around to inspect their surroundings, his eyes falling only on a suit of armour, a portrait of a large man wearing scarlet robes and a feathered hat snoozing quietly in a chair, and another of an austere witch in burgundy robes stood beside a table, perusing the book in her hand absently as she listened in on their conversation.

"Well, look at that! Lilykins isn't here, Prongs. There's no-one to impress with your maturity. Actually if anything I'm _unimpressed _by it."

"I mean it," James grabbed his arm. "Look, maybe we should go back for him."

Sirius' barking laugh, abruptly loud, rang through the corridor, making the scarlet suited wizard jerk awake in alarm, peering down at the corridor beneath him to see who had disrupted his sleep. "James, it's Peter, and we're at Hogwarts. What's the worst that can happen? Come on, let's go laugh at Swindon's broken fingers-"

"Padfoot!" James warned, and Sirius whined under his breath.

"Oh fine. Let's go find Mister Insecurity. You're such a softy, Prongs."

"I know," James admitted with an innocent smile as they made their way back to the left turn hastily, rushing to follow their friend before he could get too far.

Turning a corner, however, they found themselves confronted by a very unexpected sight.

Peter was standing against a wall, eyes wide with terror, and before him stood five Slytherins, at least three of which were seventh years, the rest not far behind. He let out of a squeak of panic and relief at the sight of his friends.

"What the-" James shouted, making towards the group and preparing to shout even louder than he had done during the Quidditch practice.

Sirius, however, had better ideas.

"You cowardly bastards!" he roared. "Incarcerous!" a sixth year Slytherin, to slow to dodge the spell, fell to the ground as ropes of an off gold colour began to snake around him.

"Sirius!" James shouted back at his friend, but the other green and silver clad boys had soon engaged in a furious combat. Gilbert Swanning took a step forward, looking delighted.

"What's wrong, Potter? Scared?"

"Of you?" James scoffed. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" he snapped, stepping aside to avoid the spell aimed at him. Without another thought he extracted his wand and fired at Swanning, who was more than eager to return the favour.

Soon they were lost in a series of flashing spells, and Sirius took down another boy who found himself vulnerable as he tripped over his roped comrade. Already on the floor, the Slytherin began scrabbling at his friend to release him from his bonds, while another seventh year, who turned out to be Severus Snape, stepped forwards to take his place in the fight.

The shouts rang loud, all spells, the Slytherins too panicked to communicate and the two fighting Gryffindors without a verbal need to.

It didn't take long for James and Sirius to overpower the others, whom they had managed to back into a corner, Peter watching helpless, his wand three feet away from his reach. The pair had grins of their faces as they waited expectantly for the group to take their leave, running with their tails between their legs and crying to their common room, and for a moment they caught each other's eyes in a silent exchange.

James stepped aside as he raised a hand towards Sirius, and the world didn't need to be in slow motion for him to watch in horror as a streak of white light shot from one of the Slytherin wands, though which one exactly he would never know, meeting Sirius' chest side on as he stepped forwards towards his friend.

Without a moment to realise he'd been hit Sirius' body shuddered, and from a great gash, like the wound of an invisible sword, blood spurted everywhere.

Shrieks from the Slytherins erupted and they scattered as James, ignoring them, stared frozen at Sirius, who had whispered his name in breathy panic before collapsing to the floor, his blood pooling around him in spatters of crimson, shining against his pale skin.

"Sirius!" James repeated, over and over shouting in his friend's shivering face, not knowing where to hold him. "Don't just stand there!" he screamed at Peter, who was staring horrified at the oldest boy's barely conscious form, wand back in his possession. "Get help!"

At once Peter took off down the corridor, shouting for help all the way, and James returned his attention to the boy on the floor.

"Don't worry, Sirius. Just wait, someone's coming," he whispered, grasping one of Sirius' hands, which trembled violently as he tried to staunch the flow of blood with his fingers, and unashamed tears from eyes both hazel and grey flowed freely as the merciful sounds of approaching footsteps could be heard, barely audible over Sirius' gasping screams of pain.


	22. Broken Promises

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**21. Broken Promises**

_**Of betrayal, fights, and the reluctance of Jareth Sheehan.**_

Regulus Black could count on his hands the number of times in his life that he had cried. He sat alone in his dormitory, trying to remember the last time he had shed tears. If memory served, he hadn't done so since a Quidditch accident in third year, when reluctant, shameful tears spilled down his face as he clutched at his shattered kneecap.

That was crying episode number six.

This would be number seven.

He didn't count the day he officially became an only child according to the Black Family Tree. As far as he was concerned that night never happened.

His shoulders shook almost as badly as his clenched fists, which gripped his crumpled robes with a desperate longing. He wanted to march down to the hospital wing, reputation disregarded, and sit beside those loathed Gryffindors and hold his brother's hand. It was only a very small part of him, mind, but it was such a temptation.

Downstairs in the common room, as he knew all too well, Gilbert Swanning was relating the tale to his adoring fans, paying particular attention to how loudly the supposedly _brave_ Gryffindor had squealed as he fell to the floor. He seemed peculiarly cheerful, to say how fearful he had been as he left the interrogations of Professors Slughorn and McGonagall earlier in the afternoon. It was almost dinner time by now, and with his confidence back Swanning had no problem embellishing his tale with added details that even some of his fellow Slytherins almost doubted.

Regulus, meanwhile, remained alone.

Beatrice Radisson had approached the subject when news first reached their ears of the fight, but he had avoided her questioning looks with flyaway comments about how much homework he had to get done.

Now, though, alone to his musings, Regulus found solitude wasn't what he needed. What he needed was to confront the promise breaker, the one he knew to be guilty without a second thought.

He stood abruptly, and before he could think better of it he marched out of the door, though not, as his feet wished, towards the hospital wing. Instead they turned in the opposite direction and strode up, up, up the stairs to the seventh year boy's dormitory.

When his three knocks on the door remained unanswered he turned the doorknob and pushed hard. Unsurprisingly, sitting on his bed Severus Snape ignored the intruder. He paid no attention whatsoever to the boy until Regulus coughed loudly, waiting to be acknowledged.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company..._again_?" the older boy drawled. In his hand was an unopened book that he'd been staring at the cover of with unusual scrutiny when he'd been interrupted. He placed it to one side, the title surreptitiously concealed in shadow as he spoke.

"It was you."

"I'd reply, but you're accusation is not one of sense," Severus sighed, his black eyes staring coolly into Regulus' icy blue ones.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Snape!" Regulus bellowed, and Severus _almost_ smirked, just as he _almost_ informed the boy how very similar to his brother he looked when he was angry. "You cast that spell on my brother after you swore you'd leave him well enough alone!"

"Ohh, _my brother, my brother!_" Severus simpered, and this time he did smirk. "Black, for someone who claims to detest the very existence of his sibling, you do seem to spend a good deal of your time worrying about what happens to him."

Regulus took a menacing step forwards, but rather than be intimidated the older boy raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"I've told you before I don't care for your opinions. I just thought you'd have enough honour to keep your promise," Regulus snapped. "Now fix him!"

"You can't even prove it was me," Severus drawled. "And the entire of Slytherin would converge against you if you turned into some snivelling informant."

For a moment Snape looked repulsed, though at what Regulus couldn't be sure.

He knew this well enough already, but he refused to stoop low enough to gratify Severus with an acknowledgement. He took another step forwards, his legs now pressing against the side of the bed closest to the door. "You haven't denied it," he said pointedly.

Severus smiled. "Of course I haven't."

"They're threatening to punish every Slytherin in fifth year and above until someone confesses. McGonagall and even _Slughorn_. Said it's some dark magic, and Madam Worrell can't close the wounds. Jefferson overheard a couple of Gryffindors talking about it earlier."

"So?" Severus asked in a mockingly sweet tone.

"I've seen you, you know. Scribbling in your notebooks, pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist. You did it, you should damn well be able to fix it," Regulus said logically in his calmest tone, though it shook with badly suppressed anger.

His pale cheeks were flushed, his eyelashes clumped together from leftover tears, and his upper lip was damp and quivering.

"And if it the point of the spell is to _not_ be healed?" Severus sighed. This conversation, mildly interesting at first, was beginning to bore him.

For the briefest of seconds Regulus looked ready to vomit. "Of course it can be healed you swine!" he then cried, throwing his hand in air in a futile gesture of frustration. "Now you're going to fix Sirius, or so help me I'll-"

"_Sirius_?" Severus chuckled under his breath. "Oh how deeply death affects that old brotherly affectio-"

"Don't mock me, Severus Snape!" the younger black son shouted, and before he could help himself his wand was out, directed at his fellow Slytherin, wrathful sparks of orange bursting from its tip. For the first time Severus flinched. He'd had enough of Regulus' outbursts to last him a lifetime, and felt distinctly glad that he was at the very least in a different year to him.

"Now, are you going to fix him or aren't you?" the boy asked, his voice as cold as the fearful blood running through his veins.

* * *

James Potter was tired. In every way he was sure was possible James Potter was _exhausted_. So when he walked into his dormitory to find a petite, curvy redhead with pink rimmed eyes and a tear stained face, he sighed despite himself, dejected.

Lily stood, looking distinctly mousier than usual, as if she had shrunk over the few hours they'd spent apart. Her shoulders were hunched, her arms crossed over her chest, and James realised as her dark green eyes found his that she wasn't simply sad for Sirius.

"What do you want, Lily?" He didn't bother with a nickname, or a cheeky half-smile, or a little quirk of one eyebrow.

"How's he doing?" Her voice was barely a whisper on her lips, and she regretted the question before she'd finished it.

"Oh, fantastic," James snapped. "To be honest I'm not sure why Madam Worrell isn't just letting him out now. I reckon he's just being lazy, soaking up attention in the Hospital Wing. I might get him up early tomorrow to train some Quidditch, stop him being so sloppy."

She always hated his sarcasm. It wasn't little quips the way Juliette would add a little comment to the conversation. It was vicious sarcasm, malignant and cold, and his lips would twist downwards with each word.

"I hate it when you do that."

"I hate it when you ask stupid questions."

"And I hate it when you break promises less than twenty four hours after you've made them!" the redhead bellowed. With less patience than usual she raised her hands and pushed him hard on both shoulders, so he staggered back three steps. "_All _I asked was that you don't fight with the Slytherins. _One simple task, James_. And now look where it's gotten you!"

"You don't even know what happened!" James retaliated, though his voice remained low, as if hoping she would notice his exhaustion and stop. Any such hopes, however, were soon crushed.

"Oh yes I bloody well do, you moron. It doesn't take a genius to work it out. I'm actually insulted. Do your promises mean so little to you?"

"_You're_ _insulted_?" James spluttered. "You selfish harpy. Sirius is bleeding out in the Hospital Wing and _you feel insulted_? Get over yourself, Lily. The world doesn't revolve you and your precious perfections." He wanted to storm out of the room, but this was _his _dormitory and he had every right to be there. It was Lily's obligation to leave, yet she refused to budge.

"Oh don't make it look like I don't care about him, James. Of course I care about him! But there's nothing I can do right now, so I thought it would be better to address the underlying problem."

"And what problem would that be?"

"Your pigheaded arrogance, Potter! Your inability to leave things be, or let things fly, or give up one single opportunity to be in the middle of a fight. I'm sick of it!" She looked tired, but James had little sympathy for her _or _the tears bubbling beneath her lower lids, clutching at her lashes and causing her to blink rapidly.

He had tears of his own to shed.

"_My_ inability?" he shrieked, jabbing a finger into his chest violently. "You hypocrite! When do you _ever_ leave things be, Lily? When have you _ever_ walked away from a confrontation? You always have to get the last word in! Every bloody time! How dare you accuse me of-"

"At least I don't start shooting curses left, right and centre!"

"Fourth year: you and Jules argued, so you charmed her chair to tip her over every lesson for two days. Fifth year: I asked you out and you had every treacle pudding chasing me around the Great Hall. Fifth year: you had _James-heart-Sirius_ carving itself into the school desks. Sixth year: you-"

"Yes, because they harmed _so many_ people!" Lily snapped waspishly.

"And it was so clearly my plan to get Sirius hurt, was it?"

They had moved closer to one another as their words whipped back and forth between them, pushing against the tension that separated them with heaving chests and damp cheeks.

When the redhead failed to answer James filled the awkward silence with awkward words.

"Do you not want to hear what happened?"

If he'd intended to sound friendly and inviting he'd failed miserably. His coldness froze her fieriness, only spurring her petty resentment.

"I don't need to."

"Fine," James cried in false breeziness, grinning like a pained clown, mocking its own existence. "So are you going to do it, or am I?" He tried to be as bitter as possible, secretly hoping she would do it. No matter his anger, he didn't think he was ready to say those words yet.

Lily paused, hoping her silence would allow James to realise how very much she hated the idea of saying it first.

They were spared their agonised wait, however, by a soft knock at the door, followed by a seventh year girl stepping inside tentatively.

"Is Lily h-" Wendy paused, eyes flicking from boy to girl in quick succession before a blush stained her cheeks and she looked ready to retreat. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Just – yeah – doesn't matter."

"It's fine, Wendy," Lily said in a bright tone that did not match the sparkling in her emerald eyes. "We're all done. Aren't we, James?"

"All finished." James' tight lipped smile barely changed his face at all, and he remained that way until the redheaded girl of his dreams, ushering her friend out of the door, had stalked out of the dormitory and out of sight, her locks dancing past her shoulders as she refused to turn back one last time before leaving.

* * *

He found her, unsurprisingly, hidden away in a cramped corner behind a suit of armour.

Her head was buried in her arms, which were folded stubbornly across her knees. She wasn't crying, but the flushed, swelling exhaustion that surrounded her was indication enough that she had been doing so quite recently. He sat down hesitantly, and it wasn't until he ran his fingers softly through her tangle of blonde curls that she so much as acknowledged his existence, pushing her head back into his hand, searching for friendly comfort.

"Can I ask how you're helping anyone, sitting here moping?" he asked, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as she wrenched herself away from him in protest, an indistinct _hmph _escaping her hidden mouth. "Elizabeth Joan Harding," Jareth Sheehan said firmly. "Look at me right now."

Reluctantly she peered up at him, and with a watery smile she whispered. "How the hell do you know my middle name? You stalker."

His chuckle was low, breathy, and it invited such warmth that Lizzie gave in, brushing aside her better judgement and leaning sideways so she was nestled under his arm.

"For your information," he qualified before a comfortable silence could fall between them. "I heard your friend India-Rose call you it one day at breakfast as I was coming over to talk to you."

"Listening in on my conversations? This is supposed to help your case, is it?" she mumbled. Her muscles remained stiff, holding her frame tightly so as not to relax in his embrace.

"Either that or you and your friends talk way too loudly."

"One of the two," Lizzie whispered, and another tear leaked out of one eye despite the smile that quivered against his robes.

No matter how hard she fought, the blonde could feel herself softening to the boy's touch. A natural instinct, perhaps. She hadn't been hugged since Juliette fleetingly grabbed her in a tight embrace hours ago, whispering she was _sorry_. Lizzie supposed she should be grateful; it almost seemed as if Juliette _was _sorry for what had happened to her least favourite person in Gryffindor – or arguably the entire school, depending on the mood she was in.

The sigh Lizzie exhaled sounded almost contented, and it didn't matter how much she wanted to cry and shriek and mourn; she could feel the prickling in her pale green eyes subside as her lashes slowly dried, the remnants of old tears rubbed away by the shoulder of the one person she probably _shouldn't_ want to talk to.

The flush of guilt wasn't strong enough to pull her away from his embrace, though. It was too gentle, too welcoming, too right.

"Why aren't you down with everyone else?" Jareth asked.

Upturning her face, words failed Lizzie, so she paused before reaching up to pull at the coarse hair on the boy's head.

"You've cut your hair again." He threw her a frustrated look. "It looks nice."

"Yeah, thanks," he pushed past her compliment, trying his utmost not to glow with pride at her attention and focus on being her friend. "More importantly – _why are you here and not with everyone else_?"

"Everyone else?" Lizzie tested the words on her tongue, looking confused. "Juliette tried her best to stick around and look terrified, but no-one's that good at pretending. She's in the common room. I mean, she cares and all, it's not like she wants him to…you know…but she doesn't want to sit at his bedside crying. Wendy stayed a while, but she feels uncomfortable sat there, too. James is anywhere _but _the Hospital Wing. Lily's looking for James, last I saw. Peter's been in and out like a Quaffle through a hoop all day. Remus and India-Rose are still there, I think. And so's...you know," she tailed off lamely, her eyes finding her knees again and she curled up tighter than ever.

"Isla?" Jareth assumed. He didn't need the small nod of confirmation from her to know he was right. "Did you two fall out?"

He didn't mean to sound patronising, but he was pretty sure that was how it sounded. Lizzie, however, was either less aware than usual or too tired to get angry. Instead she murmured dejectedly, more to herself than to him.

"She tried to be friendly and I pretty much told her to piss off. I'm a world class cow."

"I highly doubt that," Jareth squeezed the arm he held Lizzie in, and she wriggled, as if uncomfortable, though whether it was his action or his words he couldn't say.

He opened his mouth to speak and felt his words clog his throat. He knew what he _should _say, but it was far from what he wanted to say. He rolled his eyes at himself, suppressing a sigh.

"You should go down there," he said quickly before he could stop himself again. He felt the girl grow rigid once more, and this time he knew it was his words that had provoked her.

"You think?" He barely heard her words, and for a moment wondered if they had only been imagined.

It took all his willpower not to groan in regret before nodding, though she couldn't see him. "Yes, I do."


	23. Uncertainties

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**22. Uncertainties**

_**Of frustration, masochists, and stupid bastards.**_

"What the bloody hell do you mean _you don't know_?"

Juliette Swindon was beyond furious. Behind her ribcage she had been trying to contain a very large sac of tightly crammed emotions for the better part of the day, and now she was tired.

Tired, frustrated, and angry.

With the news of the fight between Slytherin and Gryffindor - more importantly, it's culmination - had come a flurry of fear that had refused to settle, even when it became clear _Black _was the only one laid up in the Hospital Wing. Soon a maternal surge of protectiveness had flared, and she wanted to rip out the throat of the bastard who had dared harm one of her…well, _friends_, she supposed, in a twisted sort of way.

Though, of course, she had felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy that someone else had done what she'd wanted to on many occasions.

And then there had been the concern and the panic and the realisation and the crying Elizabeth to sort out.

And now this.

If Sirius survived this she was going to kill him for all the trouble he was putting her through.

"It's a simple question, James." She lowered her voice considerably in an attempt to regain some measure of control over herself. "Have you broken up with Lily, or are you just in the middle of a little lover's spat?"

They had found refuge in an empty classroom, and the tall girl with the curly coffee locks and puffy shell lips had been on the verge of grabbing her old friend by the scruff of the neck and dragging him to the Hospital Wing to visit his best friend when out had come the haphazard tale of the fight between her undeniably favourite couple.

Though successfully distracted, Juliette's dissatisfaction only took a turn for the worse.

"I don't know!" James cried. His hair, near pulled out from the nervous twitch of scraping his fingers over his scalp, was even more ruffled than usual, and with a pang of something he wasn't quite ready to confront he thought of the many jokes Sirius would have made if he could see what a mess he was. "She just – just walked out. No!" he shouted, pointing alarmingly at the girl. "She – she – she _stalked _out or something. Like a lion. It was scary."

"Pssht," Juliette waved her hand, striking an imaginary fly between them. "Lily Evans couldn't be scary if she tried."

"Piss off!" James shouted. "Lily Evans is scariest when she's _not _trying!"

"Oh, give over Jamie," Juliette sighed. "Just go...run up to her and kiss her one. She'll get over it. Like that Hollywood shit you nicked from your mum!"

James looked ready to throttle her; his fingers even convulsed reflexively as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

"Do you really believe that?" he enquired disparagingly.

"Not really," Juliette shrugged. "But right now, Jamie-kins, I'm running out of ideas and time. I've lost Elizabeth. Peter's still looking for _you_. Wendy's lost Lily. Remus has lost India-Rose. The only person _not_ missing is your best friend," she spat the last two words with far less sarcasm than usual. "So hop to it. Get going. You know where he is."

James didn't reply, his eyes meekly finding the chalkboard behind the girl instead, and he knotted his fingers together awkwardly.

"James Potter go to that darn Hospital Wing or I will _put _you there myself!" Juliette threatened darkly, stomping forwards three steps until James, nodding and mumbling incoherently, near fled from the room, eager to escape the icy gaze of her warm chocolate eyes.

Finally alone Juliette smiled at herself, shaking her head in surprise. She had just sent to James Potter to the side of Sirius Black. A friendly, understanding, utterly unselfish act.

Maybe there was hope for her yet...she rolled her eyes at herself at the thought.

* * *

"Wendy's looking for you."

Lily gasped between hiccups as she looked up from her hiding place in the prefects' shower, still fully clothed. She hadn't turned it on, though she'd considered it briefly, and sat curled in the corner of the white tiles, sulking and sniffling, engulfed in loneliness.

India-Rose didn't say another word until she had joined her redheaded friend on the floor, tucking her legs beneath her and shuffling to bump shoulders with the older girl. Her dark hair looked raven black in the darkness, and it framed her warm features in a motherly shadow of understanding, only encouraging the stray tears that leaked from Lily's eyes.

She offered an embrace but Lily was content hugging her knees.

"What's up, honeybee?"

Lily sniffed once, rubbing her left cheek with her sleeve and sitting up a little straighter, regaining some resemblance of dignity before replying. "I should be locked up." She didn't appreciate the soft chuckle that escaped the taller girl's almost-smiling lips.

"And why is that?"

"Because I just shouted at James at completely the wrong time."

"You shouted at him today? As in, you shouted at a face that is screaming my-best-friend-is-dying-and-I-need-a-hug?" India-Rose, to Lily's surprise, looked almost impressed.

"Yes," the redhead groaned. "_And _I walked out on him. He called me a harpy!" she spat, and her indignation bounced off the gleaming tiles, sounding bitter to her ear, replayed and magnified. "And a hypocrite!" It still pained her to think of it, and she buried her face deep into her palms, searching for solace, or perhaps simply numbness.

"Well that was quite harsh," India-Rose agreed, nodding more to herself than to her friend, given Lily was busy hiding from the world to notice, and she wrapped an arm around the smaller girl, pulling her tightly to her chest. "Why were you arguing, anyway?"

Lily's cough shuddered into a small sob and she looked ready to burst into tears as she met India-Rose's gaze.

"Because he p-promised not to f-fight them!" she stuttered, and another tear trickled delicately from her lashes, resting neatly on her jaw. The dark haired girl wiped it away with her index finger, glaring sternly.

"And you're sat here moping because you feel too guilty to expect an apology and too angry to give one?"

One hysterical laugh and three hiccups later Lily nodded. "Why are you not Head Girl? You know everything." She shouted a wordless noise of confusion and pushed her head into her friend's shoulder.

"As flattered as I am I think you're better suited for the job. And do you know why?"

Lily, hating the way she knew India-Rose was about to shower her with sappy compliments that meant nothing to her in her present state, didn't even bother to shrug.

"Because when you need to be you're a humble little mouse, and you accept you can be wrong. You're understanding, and kind, and lovely, and-"

"That's all very great, Indy, but not exactly helpful," Lily muttered darkly into the girl's arm.

"Fine," India-Rose snapped, though her lips twitched in a small smile. "Then just break up with him and get it over with."

She didn't like the look Lily suddenly threw her, panicked and heartbroken.

"I think I already did," she whispered.

"What do you mean _you think_?!" India-Rose shrieked, her face a mask of horror.

She needed Remus. He would sort this out.

* * *

Remus, meanwhile, had problems enough to sort out in the Hospital Wing.

With India-Rose gone and Sirius still unconscious, and Madam Worrell occasionally bustling around his bedside shaking her head with a grave expression knitted across her softly lined features, he found himself sitting in the company of two girls, one with raven hair, the other's the colour the sunshine, tension choking them all as it swelled and festered. He made it a habit to adjust his robes or his hair every few minutes, sometimes running a hand over his face to dispel the concern and sleep that crept into his dark amber eyes.

Isla only moved to run her thumb over Sirius pale knuckle.

Lizzie didn't move at all.

Sirius lay immobile in the bed – no doubt the luckiest of the group, Remus thought with sinister sarcasm, avoiding the awkward almost-glances and flushed faces.

One long stretch of bandage had been wrapped several times around his torso, needing to be changed every hour or so as unwanted crimson soaked them, blossoming from a long line across his chest, silhouetting the gash that had sliced through him. He looked as thin as parchment and sombre as the grave with no twinkly grey eyes to exude mischief and life. He hadn't woken since the hospital matron had forced down a sleeping draught the moment he'd been carried in by Professor Skyler.

As time passed it grew harder and harder to sum up the courage to start a conversation. It was as if Remus could see the conversation running further and further away from him; the longer he waited, the harder it would be to grab. He swallowed, coughed, and for the umpteenth time lost his nerve and remained silent.

If not for Madam Worrell, they might have stayed in such a manner for the rest of the night.

"I'm afraid it's getting quite late, dears. I can't really let you stay much longer." Her voice, as ever, somehow managed to sound authoritative and kindly simultaneously as she gestured between the occupied bed and the door. In unison all three visitors looked up, and through the gloom of the descending evening they could see the shadow of a figure stood waiting to be noticed, as if in need of permission to enter.

"I'll go," Lizzie whispered, barely louder than a ghost's breath.

"We'll leave soon," Remus promised, nodding to the older woman. He was aware of Lizzie leaving his side, and he reached to squeeze her arm briefly but she had moved too fast, and he had to settle for her wrist.

Lizzie didn't look back as she joined Peter in the hallway, his fretful brow puckered and his hands raw from wringing them repeatedly. She beckoned feebly with her hand and soon Peter was trotting by her side, mousy curiosity in her watery eyes as he failed to voice his questions.

Lizzie intervened before he could muster the courage.

"You could have come in, you know." She sounded parched, and she licked her cracked lips, not looking away from the floor.

"I don't – I didn't - it's just- Peter stammered, and he glanced from floor to wall to girl and back again in his discomfort.

"What's wrong?" She tried to sound kindly, she truly did, but she simply didn't have it in her. Peter flinched and swallowed his words.

"He looks so-"

"Not Sirius?" she asked dryly.

"What?"

"He doesn't look like Sirius."

"No." Peter wasn't sure whether to nod or shake his head, so he settled for both. "He doesn't."

"Where's James?"

Everyone seemed to have asked it at some point. _Where's James? Where's Prongs? Where's Potter? _He seemed to have vanished into thin air. Maybe he had done. Lizzie wished could do the same.

"I'd tell you if I knew," Peter shrugged. "I gave up looking for him at dinner time. You know Prongs, if he doesn't want to be found he won't be."

"We should set our Lily on the case. She'll sniff him out in a heartbeat."

"He's probably with her now. I mean, who else is he going to go to?" For a moment Lizzie thought Peter sounded bitter, but she shook the thought away before she could confront it. She was tired, and scared, and it felt as if she had cried an entire childhood of tears in the past few hours.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know," Peter jerked his head in a not-quite-shrug. "Whenever something bad happens he goes to Sirius. But Sirius isn't...available, so he'll probably go to Lily. Right?"

Lizzie thought on this without comment. She tried not to question James as she walked; tried not to wonder why he didn't talk to Remus, or Peter, his best friends? Weren't they all best friends?

But of course, she sighed, she was tired, and scared, and had cried a childhood of tears in a single afternoon. She wasn't thinking straight. She pushed the thoughts away before she could begin questioning the very ground she walked on.

* * *

"Ahh, Mr Potter. I wondered how long it would take."

Professor Klaus Skyler was a tall man with dark blond hair, slicked back most of the time, and deep eyes that hid far more than they revealed.

He had trained in international communications in the German Ministry, moving to London after falling in love with the daughter of one of his British contacts, where he studied the arts of an Auror in his spare time. At thirty three years old he had accepted an offer as Hogwarts' Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher as a means of job experience before starting his final year of practical training in the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic.

He liked James Potter, had even met him on occasion when the boy had attended Ministry gatherings with his greatly admired father, Sebastian. Klaus been something of a practical joker himself as a child, resulting in many a fallout with his mother, and he appreciated a good laugh. He doubted this particular visit would entail any such hilarity, however.

"'lo, sir," James shrugged as he entered his teacher's study. The walls were lined with books, leaving little room for the sparse desk near the window at which Professor Skyler was sitting, a photo of himself with a dark haired, blue eyed beauty in his arms perched in front of him, one of his many books open in front of him. James took an uninvited seat, staring meekly at the wood of the desk.

"What do you want, James?"

The older man's accent had softened somewhat over the years, but it was still distinctive, and for some unknown reason it fascinated James, who would spent the majority of his Defence lessons dreaming up obscure questions to ask the professor, simply to hear him reply. Not today, though. Today James simply shrugged.

"You know when you're training to be an Auror?"

"Yes." He didn't elaborate, instead waiting for the boy to continue.

"Do you ever think about – you know - what'll happen if someone you know – a friend – if a friend of yours dies?"

Professor Skyler paused before he replying. He didn't want to patronise the seventh year, but he knew exactly where such a question was coming from, and he didn't know how he was supposed to answer. He didn't have children, wasn't planning on them, and he had no idea how to be a fitting role model.

"It's a possibility, I've always known that," he began slowly, closing his book with only a glance to memorise the page number before pushing it aside and crossing his arms to lean forwards, giving the boy his full attention. "James, does this have anything to do with the current state of your friend, Mr Black?"

"No!" James cried, before realising this was a stupid answer and he blushed, his eyes averting from his teacher's and finding his knotted fingers. "Maybe, yes, I suppose."

Professor Skyler sighed deeply, waiting for the boy to look up and catch his eye again before speaking, as he knew he would.

"Potter, your friend isn't going to die. Even if we have to send him to St. Mungo's, he isn't going to die. Do you hear me?"

Feeling incredibly stupid and sulky, James nodded.

"And if you're still thinking about going into the Ministry like your father I suggest you start embracing this feeling, James. I know Sirius' ambitions are as strong as yours, and that you both want to be as good as your father. It will mean risks, James. You will feel this way a lot of the time. You will be in danger and you will have to fight, and either of you could die at any time. You have to be ready for that."

"I _know _that!" James shouted, and anger flashed in his dark honey eyes, his cheeks paling as if he had frightened even himself. "But not here! We shouldn't have to feel like this here! This is Hogwarts!" His tears spilled shamefully down his face, dripping off his jaw sadly, quietly, at great odds with the fury in his voice. "This isn't supposed to be like this! We're supposed to be _safe _from all that crap here!"

The man waited until James had let out his words, barely audible between shuddering breaths, before replying.

"I know, James." He wanted to continue, but what was he supposed to say? _You're right, James, this is all wrong. Life is wrong. The world is wrong._ That was hardly a suitable _role model_ type of answer. "I know," he repeated softly.

* * *

It was incredible how quickly the worst of the tension diffused as Lizzie walked away from Sirius' bedside. Remus could practically feel Isla's aura soften around her, though she remained square and unmercifully cold.

Trying not to feel as if he was betraying some unspoken Gryffindor code the werewolf stood, walked around to the other side of the bed, and put an arm around the girl. She trembled in his embrace, but kept her cool as she continued to stroke her boyfriend's knuckles, her eyes almost tear free.

"He always has been stupid."

"He has," Remus agreed, a sad smile gracing his lined features.

"Do you think I'm masochistic?"

It was such an unexpected question that the spluttering chuckle that escaped Remus' lips simply couldn't be helped. He leaned back to take in the girl's serious expression with deepest thought, though his chuckle hadn't yet died in his throat.

"What on earth do you-"

"This is Sirius!" Isla pointed down at the unconscious boy fretfully. "This is what he does! He gets himself into a mess and then doesn't get out of it in time. _He's_ not masochistic. He's just stupid. I'm not stupid. I must be masochistic," she reasoned as a lonely tear wobbled on an eyelash. "And the worst bit is I'm going to spend all this time worrying and crying and hating everything and everyone, even myself, and then when he wakes up he'll either do it all over again or he'll get bored of me like last time and dump me anyway."

Remus, leaping into defence of his friend, patted her shoulder firmly. "Hey!" he cried. "Hey, calm down. Sirius isn't like that anymore. He's grown up, you know. He cares about you, and he'll appreciate that you stick by him."

Isla fiddled with her fringe, which was crispy against her forehead from a sheen of fearful perspiration. Her sobs hummed audibly in the back of her throat.

"Sorry," she hiccupped. "You must think I'm really selfish, all worried about myself when Sirius is – he's-" she curled instinctively against the sandy haired boy's hug, losing her rigid posture to simply be comforted for the first time all day.

"I know, I understand," Remus mumbled, his chin on the top of her head. He wasn't sure, but he thought he really did understand. Of course, _I understand _sounds a lot better than _I think I understand_, so he just rubbed her arm gently until she relaxed.

It was dark now, the dim light of the corridor lamps streaming through the semi-open door of the Hospital Wing. Madam Worrell could be heard fussing around a cauldron, muttering darkly to herself. By Remus' judgement it was past ten o'clock, possibly closer to eleven.

He gathered the Ravenclaw in his arms and hoisted her until she was standing upright. She swayed tiredly, then clenched her fists and stilled herself.

"Thanks, Remus," Isla whispered, wrapping a brief arm around the boy's waist in thanks. "India-Rose is a lucky girl." She smiled lightly at the way Remus seemed to glow at the praise, and was glad she'd said it. It wasn't as if it was a lie, and she didn't have any other thanks to offer. She looked down to Sirius, as unaware of their departure as he had been of their presence.

"We're leaving now, Madam Worrell," Remus called in a hushed tone to the back room, and the older woman waved distractedly, her thoughts on her potion book.

They didn't look back when they reached the door, no matter how much they wanted to.

"James didn't show up," Isla said sadly.

"James doesn't do well with guilt," Remus confided with a disappointed sigh.

"What does he have to-"

"Don't-" Remus interrupted. "Trust me, he's feeling guilty."

* * *

The sliver of light from the crescent moon, even when combined with the flickering torches of the corridors, was not enough to illuminate the halls as the two figures stole through the darkness, pattering down the steps and darting past the sleeping portraits with all the speed they dared.

They were of a similar height, each with black hair that had grown past their jaws, one lanky and the other lean. Unlit wands held aloft they seemed to chase one another through the castle.

"If we get caught-" the lanky one began.

"Keep moving!" the lean boy snapped.

They reached large, double doors quickly, the eager one breathless with fear, the reluctant one breathless from the unasked for run.

"Ready?" Regulus asked. Severus nodded coldly.

"Get on with it, Black," he snarled.

Thankfully the door was already unlocked. The two Slytherins approached the only occupied bed, one on either side, as silent as the Gryffindor beneath the sheets, who would have looked dead if not for the faint, rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"Do it now," Regulus ordered, his eyes roaming on lookout.

Severus, looking rather like he wished himself to be anywhere _but_ the Hospital Wing in that moment, leaned forwards, wand pressing lightly against bandages, and began to murmur an incantation. Regulus was too full of fear and relief to be bothered that he spoke too quietly to be understood.

It took over a minute, and several times the sixth year had to stop himself from asking what was taking so long, biting back threats of what he would do if Severus worsened the damage.

"Finished," Severus growled, his skin sickly green with discontent.

"Good, now go before someone sees you."

Severus did not need asking twice, but he paused at the door, turning to see the boy perched on a bedside chair.

"Black, you-"

"Go!" Regulus hissed.

Severus wasn't going to argue. "We're even now," he reminded the boy, who nodded briefly. And with that Severus Snape scurried into the shadows, thoughts of his dormitory and a life without Regulus Black buzzing in his ears.

Regulus, however, remained seated. Tentatively he reached forwards, eyes always on his brother's face, watching for signs of Sirius waking up until he grasped his lifeless fingers tightly.

"You stupid bastard," he whispered, swallowing a lump as he ignored his prickling eyes. "You stupid, stupid bastard."


	24. Dear Sirius Part I

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**23. Dear Sirius (Part I)**

_**Of waterworks, Q shapes, and blonde hair.**_

**SUNDAY**

After awakening on Sunday morning it took Sirius precisely thirty minutes to declare himself bored to the point of wishing the Slytherins _had _killed him.

It took Remus, Peter, Wendy _and_ India-Rose to calm him down after he found out that the Slytherins were yet to be properly punished for their actions.

And somehow it took Juliette Swindon, of all people, to inform Sirius that his best friend's love life was in meltdown.

"Swindon," Sirius had growled, even going so far as to lean in to the girl's heart shaped face as she sat by his bedside. "Why has nobody mentioned this?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because it's your fault, maybe because they thought you were too delicate to handle so much drama right now, maybe because they think you'll only make matters worse if you get involved."

"I am _not_ delicate!" Sirius spluttered. "And I _am_ helpful!" She had hit a sore spot, and it took a moment for him to notice her first point.

Juliette rolled her eyes, mentally comparing the boy to a goldfish and enjoying a brief burst of amusement.

"And this is _not _my fault!"

"Oh _please_, Black," Juliette sighed, leaning her chair backwards on two legs while her own stretched across to rest comfortably on the boy's covers. "Lily may be a lit firecracker with no way of stopping her but I know for a fact James would never knowingly break a promise to Lily without provocation. I also happen to know you've been quite frustrated lately, and fighting the Slytherins is exactly the sort of thing you do to take your mind of life's little worries."

"Swindon, for someone who spends ninety-seven percent of her time hating me you seem to know a lot about me." Sirius quirked an eyebrow suggestively.

"Oh Sirius, you got me! I love you!" the curly haired brunette shrieked before throwing him a dirty look. "No, funnily enough, I actually don't. But I do know James, and for some reason known only to the terribly _un_amusing gods of chance the pair of you are some kind of sick joke of a package deal."

Sirius smiled sadly at this.

"You wouldn't think it by his cowardly lack of show," he sighed, fiddling with a strand of his duvet, hoping the girl wouldn't catch the betrayal colouring his voice. "I mean, it's all very being there when I'm fricking well _asleep_, but-"

"What?" Juliette threw him a bemused look.

"You know, last night? He was…"

Juliette's eyes narrowed gleefully at the way her fellow Gryffindor's voice tailed off.

"He was what, Sirius?" she cooed his name patronisingly, and her fingers twitched as if she was fighting an urge to pat him on the head, too.

"I'm not comfortable talking to you about this, Swindon!" Sirius sniped, letting out some of the steam that had been building up inside him upon awakening that morning.

"Whatever, like I care," Juliette waved a nonchalant hand, leaning back in her seat. She held in her smirk as she waited for Sirius to cave, just as she knew he would. She could tell he wanted to voice his concern, and it was simply a matter of waiting for him to realise there was simply no-one else around to tell.

"He was, like, holding my hand, right? Not in a gay way!" Sirius spluttered, and he sounded determined to make her aware of the _non-gay _part of the story, as if terrified of losing his reputation in the face of this vindictive, curly haired brunette with her cocoa eyes and wide grin.

The wide grin, however, faltered.

"Sirius," she whispered softly after a pause. "James hasn't…"

This was new, Juliette registered somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind. Was she feeling _sorry _for Sirius Black? Was she reluctant to hurt his feelings?

"James hasn't visited you at all. He was with me last night, and then I was with Lily and he was with Remus."

Her expression was disgustingly apologetic, Sirius noticed with a grimace, and he dropped his gaze from her face to the blanket over his knees. He was aware of the weight lifting from his bed as she removed her legs from their outstretched position, and was so focused on working out the girl's expression without looking at her than he didn't acknowledge the confused prickling in his eyes.

He wasn't ready to admit her words hurt so damn much.

"Black?" Juliette muttered in a low tone. The last thing she needed was a sniffling Sirius Black on her hands. But, of course, taking in the light shine of the boy's eyes and the worrying of his lips with his teeth, she knew it was inevitable. "Shit, Black, don't go sappy on me. Don't punish _me _because your best friend is an insecure troll brain, ok?"

That pulled something that perhaps resembled a smile at his lips, and a snort that may or may not have been a laugh escaped through his nostrils.

"Hey, hold the waterworks, bitch," Juliette snapped, and in a moment of kindness she refrained from slapping Sirius for fear of jostling his bandages. "Save them for maximum guilt tripping once arsehole-Jamie finally drags his sorry buttocks down here."

Definitely a smile that time.

"You hear me?" she asked, attempting to sound cold and unaffected, but the relief could be heard in the sigh that escaped her lips.

"Mhmm," the boy mumbled incoherently.

"Can I go now? I have essays to finish."

She was walking away before he could nod.

"Juliette?"

"What, Black?" the girl whined sarcastically. "It's almost eight o'clock, Madam Worrell is only going to send visitors out anyw-"

"Can you ask James if he'll-"

"Already planning to," she bellowed over her shoulder as she sauntered away.

"You're a gem, sweetheart!" Sirius hooted, but had to cough and clasp at his chest as a pain shot through his torso at the exertion.

"Yeah, well, you'll keep being an even more annoying git than usual if something isn't done."

**MONDAY**

If she hadn't been aware everybody else was busy, Wendy probably wouldn't have visited. They both knew that, but it didn't seem to matter.

At the peak of his frustration Sirius found it wasn't so bad spending the morning with the one Gryffindor with whom he had almost nothing in common.

"I didn't realise you had siblings."

"Yup," Wendy shrugged her shy twitch of a smile.

"And you get on with _all_ of them?" He sounded disbelieving, and he frowned at the tinkling sound that hit the air, straight from the girl's throat. Sirius couldn't remember hearing the mousy girl laugh before. He probably had done, but as Swindon had pointed out, the loud humming of his own arrogance probably blocked out all other noises.

"Yes, Sirius, _all _of them. But especially Josh."

"He's the older one, right?"

"Wow, Sirius, you actually listened?" That laugh again, as she reciprocated his stuck out tongue. "I'm flattered. Don't you normally, well, nod and stop listening after about three seconds?"

"Usually," Sirius winked, clicking his teeth twice. "Guess that makes you sort of special, don't it, Dorrington?"

Wendy shook her head sadly, a crease between her dark eyebrows.

"So what about-"

"What's with the front, Sirius?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just ask me already. You've asked me pretty much every other question you can think of."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Dorrington."

"They haven't spoken to each other since Saturday night," she supplied without prompting. "Juliette had a shouting match with James last night, and then Lily stepped in for long enough to tell Jules to shut the hell up before going upstairs to bed about three hours earlier than would be considered too early."

Sirius exhaled, unable to decide whether he was closer to impressed or worried.

"James left the breakfast table before Lily arrived this morning. Remus wants to talk to you about it, I think."

"Mmph," Sirius nodded nonchalantly, feigning meagre interest and hoping Wendy wouldn't see he was eating up her words with desperate fervour. "Any reason he's failed to show his stupid face yet?"

"He thinks you'll hate him."

"No he doesn't," Sirius deadpanned the girl. "He's foolish; not an idiot."

"Okay, I'll rephrase. He thinks you _should _hate him, but he sort of knows you won't."

"That sounds more like good ol' Prongsie," Sirius chuckled sadly. "Tell him if he doesn't visit I might relapse into depression and won't be better in time for Quidditch on Saturday." He ignored Wendy's scepticism at the mention of his playing Quidditch on Saturday, only a week after having his chest almost fatally ripped open.

"I'll do so," the girl nodded, fiddling with the straggling ends of her fringe.

They enjoyed a comfortable silence, but unsurprisingly it was Sirius who soon broke it.

"Something on your mind, Winifred darling?"

Wendy stared blankly at the boy. "Why?" she asked slowly, dragging out the single syllable suspiciously.

"You're doing that fiddly thing with your fringe. Lizzie does that sort of thing when she's preoccupied."

Wendy grinned shyly, raising her eyebrows. "I don't know which one to comment on first, you being kind enough to ask after me, or observant enough to notice such a thing about Liz."

"I'm actually a nice guy, you know," Sirius shrugged innocently.

"A real charmer," Wendy nodded, half way to sarcastic, but her smile was kind enough to dispel the insult. "And nothing's wrong," she added simply. "I'm just feeling the strain of work, that's all. It's our last year, and though we seem to forget it sometimes, when we leave school we're stepping into a warzone."

"Wait, you're not going to go all crystal ball on me, are you?" Sirius looked worried, and the girl smiled ruefully.

"No, I'm just worried, I guess. About the future and stuff, you know? It's coming fast and sometimes I just feel as if we're _not ready_. You know what I mean? Like we're all racing to the end of school, but then what? We just leap into a warzone?" She stalled, biting her lips and locking her fingers together nervously. Sirius, for once, had the courtesy to remain silent. "It might not sound very Gryffindor of me, but I don't know if that's something I'm looking forward to."

"Hey!" Sirius interrupted abruptly, seeing damp trickles smudge under Wendy's eyes. "None of that," he said firmly, tapping her chin with his knuckle like a fond uncle and winking affectionately at her. Her smile was weak, and it trembled and faltered, but it was still there. "Gryffindor's about more than just being idiots and jumping into a fight at every opportunity, you know."

He glanced down at his broken body awkwardly, clearly he wasn't the best example of this. A dying chuckle rose in the girl's throat as she watched him struggle for words.

"You're fantastic, Winnie," Sirius insisted. "Even though I'd be lying if I said I haven't pretty much ignored you for the past six years. This year's different, though, alright? I promise, any time you need something, come ask Padfoot." He appeared to speak genuinely, but Wendy remained suspicious.

"What's made you so nice?" she asked with a sly grin.

"I've always been nice, Winifreddie," Sirius waved an airy hand. "I just don't like to show it."

**TUESDAY**

Tuesday was a trying day for Sirius. He had fallen asleep alone the night before, and when he awoke he was once again alone. In an attempt to distract himself from the achingly obvious loneliness that filled the room stronger than the pungent stench of Zonko's finest dungbombs, he read the Daily Prophet.

Four murder cases, two werewolf attack reports and several articles on the breaking of the Statute of Secrecy later, Sirius decided the newspaper was a bad idea.

Wendy's words from the day before were starting to take their toll as he mulled over the photos he was confronted with in the papers.

The grinning, waving boy not yet cold in his grave from a werewolf attack. He had been scrawny, with ears that stuck out too far and a front tooth curving into its neighbour. How easily that could have been Remus.

And the young muggle man who brutally butchered his fiancée, obliviated until his mind was scrambled egg and under an imperius curse too strong to have avoided lasting damage.

And the most recent Auror who died fighting the Death Eaters, thought to have been killed by Isabella Potter while her counterpart, one Bellatrix Lestrange, set fire to another street of muggles in broad daylight.

And the boys and the girls and the school kids and the old men and the old women and _everyone_ listed, mere statistics in the ongoing war.

The numbers filled his head with unease and he clutched at his mending chest, his stomach, as if fearing he would vomit at any minute, wanting to purge himself of the knowledge that while he sat around whinging about the fact his friends were too busy with work to visit him, people were _dying_.

Thankfully, as ever, he was saved from his self-pitying misery by trusty old Moony.

And, of course, his other (better, as Sirius pointed out with a wink) half, India-Rose.

"Someone's looking brighter already," the girl had cooed as she kissed the top of Sirius' head, patting his shoulder far more gently than usual. Sirius had glanced warily at his friend before waggling his eyebrows in as flirty a manner as possible, choosing from an extensive list of sexual innuendos to reply with.

The light-heartedness, however, did not last long.

"You have to get out of here, Padfoot," Remus sighed, shaking his head and leaning on the bedside cabinet.

"You miss me that much, Moony?" Sirius cried mockingly. Remus grimaced.

"I wish," he muttered darkly. "James is driving me - _us_- insane."

The grin slid from Sirius' haughty face and he shrugged coolly.

"Not my problem if the git won't visit."

India-Rose squeezed the hand she was holding, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. "We'll make him," she assured desperately. "Just promise you'll chat some sense into his head."

"And what, pray, has he been doing that isn't sensible?"

"Well for starters he lost control of his magic and made his fork bend into a _Q_ at breakfast."

Sirius paused, contemplating the mental image with both concern and amusement.

"Can I ask why a _Q_?"

"What does it matter?" Remus threw his arms in the air in frustration. "He's bending cutlery into letters, Sirius! This is serious!"

Sirius didn't even have it in him to make a name joke.

"I know, I know," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out at India-Rose cutely to ease the tension, but to his dismay he found her sparkly ocean eyes as sincere as her boyfriend's – for possibly the first time ever, as he also refrained from pointing out. "What got him so riled up? Not even Jimmy-kins just goes off on one without warning…"

He did not miss the dark look the two Gryffindor prefects exchanged across his bed, the girl clinging fast to his left hand while the boy played the right upper corner of his duvet.

"You know Nicholas Widmore?"

Sirius paused for a moment, eyes closing a millimetre in concentration as he strained to match a face to the name.

"Brown hair, kind of small, Ravenclaw…" Remus prompted, but Sirius shook his head, still confused.

"You hexed him to hang from a chandelier by his underwear in fifth year for laughing when Snape jinxed James."

Sirius turned to India-Rose, awe shining in his clear starry eyes. "Yes!" he cried. "How do remember that shit?" he asked, breathless in his admiration.

"Because _I _was the one who had to explain to McGonagall exactly what happened," she replied with mock coldness, though she was obviously holding back a smirk.

"Well, Widmore had the audacity to not only strike up a conversation with Lily at the Great Hall entrance before breakfast, but it was so _damn _obvious he was flirting with her, and she, well, she sort of possibly flirted back."

Sirius heard, rather than felt, his jaw click as it fell open in shock. The duo nodded gravely as the boy turned his head from one to the other, searching for an answer.

"So that's it?" he asked painfully. "She and Prongs are just caput, is that it?"

India-Rose grunted, and Remus shrugged. "Looks like it. See what I mean? They're insane."

"So of course James then felt the need to get her back, and he didn't get a single note written in Charms because he was too busy making eyes at Lindsey Sykes and passing notes with Julia Sneading," India-Rose interrupted eagerly, and though clearly worried she seemed to be enjoying the gossip.

Sirius placed a weary hand over his eyes, as if contemplating a matter of gravest, life changing concern.

In a way, it seemed he really was. James was, after all, his best friend, and as such it was his job to help him maintain some semblance of sanity when it came to the art of chasing skirt.

"And Ginge?" he asked. She wasn't even worthy of irritating terms of endearment such as _Lily-Flower_ anymore, in his opinion. "What was she up to?"

The only opposition India-Rose gave to the change in her friend's name was a stern look before rolling her eyes impatiently. "Oh, you know, glaring daggers, 'if looks could kill', writing really messily and muttering under her breath, the usual. Last I saw before I came here she was talking to Widmore again."

Sirius exhaled loudly, regretting it when a painful ran through his chest. He frowned, but paid no heed to it as he smiled sadly at his two friends.

"I'll talk to him. Once he finally finds time in his oh so busy schedule to come pay a visit to the nearly-dead."

Remus' sombre expression split into a grin at his words.

"And how is our resident not-quite-dead?" he asked cheerfully, brushing the matter of their friend's predicament to one side in the hope of happier news.

"Definitely bored of being sick. Definitely in need of a good full moon run around. Definitely…yeah, bored," he finished lamely, blushing as both Remus and his girlfriend reached up to tousle his hair fondly in unison.

"You'll be out soon, right?" India-Rose asked concernedly, peering surreptitiously at the boy's chest as if trying to force the bandages into transparency with her powers of vision alone.

"Out by Saturday," Sirius insisted gladly, yawning as if to add to the effect of his boredom.

"Just in time to watch the Gryffindor team massacre the Hufflepuffs."

Sirius, half way through protesting that there would no mere _watching _for him, stalled, looking bemused. "I thought this was a Slytherin match? Merlin knows I need to give them all a good beating as best as I can without getting expelled."

"Not since nobody has confessed to casting the spell that did this-" India-Rose waved her hand airily at his mending torso. "-to you. The entire house is supposedly being punished, and apparently the only way they can think of doing this is by banning their team from playing and-or practising for three weeks."

"_Three weeks?_" Sirius shrieked, sitting bolt upright in bed as he squawked in horror. "_Three weeks? _They put me in this hellhole of boredom for a week and they don't even get banned for a _month_?" With a melodramatic sigh of self-pity he threw himself back onto the covers, ignoring how the scar beneath his bandages burned acutely at his movement. "_Three weeks_?" he repeated, this time more of a groan of global-scale disappointment under his breath.

"Three weeks," Remus confirmed with a sympathetic nod, patting his friend lightly on the shoulder.

"Urgh, but Hufflepuff will be so easy to beat! We'll-"

"_They'll_ be great," Remus intervened, his amber eyes looking distinctly Moonyish and stern.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius narrowed his eyes, and Remus almost turned to his girlfriend for moral support. Nobody stood between Sirius Black and a chance to humiliate another Hogwarts House through his skills on the Quidditch pitch.

"Sirius, you'll be getting out of the Hospital Wing about an hour before the match. There's no way you'll be fit to play."

Remus soon discovered James' Quidditch obsession and need to play every game was, in fact, contagious.

Luckily, Madam Worrell was able to transfigure his ears back to their normal size before his next lesson.

* * *

Sirius' second visitor of the day was his girlfriend, and it was with a heavy heart Sirius realised the warm rush of joy he felt as she took his hand and gently kissed his lips was already starting to lose its novelty. It was nice, of course, the love and attention, but he didn't enjoy it because it was _Isla Darcy _giving him love and attention, the way he had always felt in sixth year.

He simply enjoyed the love and attention of someone with breasts, soft lips, and a hand to hold.

She smiled a little too brightly as she spoke of her day, the ups and downs, apologising for not visiting the night before due to a detention from Professor Flitwick for fighting in the corridor when she _accidentally_ caused the Slytherin prefect Gilbert Swanning's inkpots to zoom out of his bag, lids off, and empty themselves all over his head.

She chatted about classes, about teachers, about homework, and Sirius found he had no desire to contribute to the conversation, if it could have been classed as such. Not because his day had been nothing but Hospital Wing, Hospital Wing, Hospital Wing, but because he didn't have anything to say to the girl.

He tried to feel guilty, and maybe the squirming in the pit of his stomach _was _remorse. Or maybe not, he couldn't be sure.

When finally she ran out of things to say Isla focused silently on running her thumbs over her boyfriend's knuckles in very much the same fashion India-Rose had done earlier in the day.

Sirius curled and uncurled his toes beneath the covers several times before plucking up the courage to speak.

"You alright, Thistle?" he asked. Isla smiled quietly to herself, and Sirius allowed a grin of his own to pull at his chapped lips, but when she looked up, he realised her bright eyes were glistening.

"When are you going to do it, Sirius?" she whispered, her words ghosting her lips. She was close enough that he felt her breath lightly on his face. He blinked, confused.

Isla laughed, and it sounded meekly hysterical.

"All day I've been psyching myself up for it. I've ignored the way Elizabeth gives me the cold shoulder, I've stayed out of whatever it is that's going on between James and Lily, I can take the rejection, you know. Just have the decency to do it quickly. I'm tired. Just do it so I can go up to my dorm and listen to some Celeste Lumos songs on repeat before I go to sleep. Okay?"

Again the boy blinked, even frowning, a perplexed crease puckering his forehead. "What do you mean?"

"Just break up with me already, Sirius, before I do it for you!" she cried, and her raven fringe shook out of her eyes as she leaned back, staring at him with lifeless, though not altogether cold eyes. Perhaps disappointment was a better word. Maybe a little fearful, too.

"I don't want to break up with you!" Sirius insisted, horrified by how very at ease she seemed to be with the idea. "What on earth would make you think that?"

"Oh please, Sirius, can't you at least respect me enough to admit you don't even really like me anymore?" Isla snapped, but through her irritability even Sirius could sense she was angrier at herself than at him. Instinctively he reached to reclaim the hand she had retracted from his grasp.

"I like you, Isla. I like you lots. Always did," he winked, almost achieving a smile from the girl. Not quite, though. "And I'm sorry things are kind of awkward, I don't want them to be. I promise I'll make it up to you once I'm out of here. Okay? We'll go out and enjoy ourselves and we'll get better, you know? It's all different this year, that's all. Everything seems more serious with it being our last year, and there's a war on, and people are worried. It'll be fine. We're good together, aren't we?"

He wasn't even entirely conscious of what he was saying. The words were spilling out of his mouth faster than vomit and far more deadly. He felt his panic threaten to shatter him as slowly a smile began to tweak at the Scottish girl's lips.

"I swear, Thistle, I _do_ want to be with you."

As if proving his point, despite the pain he leaned over to capture her lips in a kiss, going so far as to run his hand through her hair.

He ignored the strange squirming in his stomach that was most certainly _not_ guilt. And he certainly wasn't imagining the hair his fingers were running through to be longer; and fuller; and ever so distinctly blonder.


	25. Dear Sirius Part II

_This chapter has been edited and re-uploaded.  
_

_To any old fans reading, don't worry, nothing of significance to the plot has changed. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy :)_

_Reviews, as ever, much appreciated. Many thanks!_

* * *

**24. Dear Sirius (Part II)**

_**Of planning, paying, and overseeing.**_

**WEDNESDAY**

Oddly enough Sirius actually enjoyed his lack of visitors on Wednesday morning. Uninterrupted he managed to eat his breakfast at a leisurely pace and in (an uncharacteristically) contemplative silence.

He thought over simple things, such as his boredom and his hatred of the Slytherins, he bantered lightly with Madam Worrell when she changed his bandages - eagerly telling her it would be ok if the scar didn't wholly disappear, as it would definitely score him some cool points with the ladies - and thought hard about whether or not he would be well in time for the next full moon.

It was as he came to the conclusion that he would simply _have _to be better by then - a decision not exactly hard to come to for the boy - that a face peered through the open door of the Hospital Wing.

"Sirius?"

"Wormy, my boy!" Sirius crowed. "Good to see you!"

Peter shuffled in meekly, his feet sliding on the stone floor as he made his way to the seat which Sirius patted twice, encouraging him to sit. Once settled he began rooting through his bag, mumbling incoherencies about something he was _supposed to give _his friend.

"Ooh, get well presents!" Sirius squeaked, clapping his hands together in devilish delight, impatiently awaiting a pile of gifts to be handed over.

Instead, onto lap Peter threw a large text book, along with several pieces of parchment. The smaller boy's lips twitched triumphantly at Sirius' crestfallen expression, a wail of despair quivering his lips as he nudged it lethargically away from himself with his knee. "Remus told me to tell you _I'll get you to pass these exams if it's the last thing I do_."

At this, despite his heartbreak, Sirius let out a barking laugh, shaking his head fondly at his friend's dedication to the success of his educational career.

"Oh Moony, I do love that boy."

Together Peter and Sirius grinned at one another, amused by the lengths Remus was willing to go to in order to get his friends to take their schooling seriously.

Peter swore (upon pain of death, of course) not to mention to _dear ol' Moony _how the notes he had annotated meticulously so as to aid Sirius in the best way possible were tossed thoughtlessly to the floor with only an ungrateful snigger of acknowledgement.

And soon, homework forgotten, they had moved on to bigger, better things.

Like the epic drama that was Gryffindor House.

"…and then Lily tried to hex him again, but India-Rose stopped her and tried to pull her away. Which got Lily _and _James angry at her for getting in the way, so Remus was pissed at both of them for shouting at his girlfriend, when really all India-Rose did was save James from getting killed and Lily from getting into trouble for decapitating the Head Boy."

Sirius, enthralled by the tale, hugged his pillow closer, unconsciously leaning forwards as Peter explained, wide eyed with memories of the previous night's commotion. "So…?" he asked quietly, darkly excited by all this drama he seemed to be missing.

"So," Peter continued. "Juliette managed to get hold of Lily, because India-Rose refused to help anymore after getting yelled at for no reason. And Remus got hold of James, and they sort of, like, dragged them away. But then James came back down to get his bag from the common room, and he saw Lily talking to Donald Matherson, and he flipped out and came storming back up to the dorms and started shouting at me and Remus. And then-"

Peter tailed off, biting his lip uncomfortably, watery blue eyes shifting around Sirius' head, not quite meeting his gaze.

"And then…" Sirius prompted anxiously, fingers digging into his pillow until it threatened to rip and spill feathers everywhere.

"He sort of – lost it. Started crying into his pillow and telling us not to bother waking him up this morning, and he's a failure that we should put down out of mercy."

Sirius, refusing to acknowledge the emotional ache that caused a deep twinge somewhere around his heartstrings at this revelation, snorted in amusement, false enough for Peter, who shrugged. "What a tool," he shook his head, eyes turned downwards to hide the worry that festered there.

"Yeah," Peter nodded in agreement, looking awkward.

"What about _you_ though, eh?" Sirius enquired with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. He tapped his elbow into Peter's arm, causing the boy to blush at his waggling eyebrows. "How's your girl?"

"Ruth's fine. And she's not 'my girl'."

"And yet you knew who I was talking about," Sirius smirked in victory. Peter blushed harder than ever, his eyes boring holes into his feet, which he tapped on the floor, embarrassed. "Wormy, just ask her out, for the love of Merlin!" Sirius cried. "Gee, you've seen Prongs and I do it often enough, surely it's clicked inside that little brain of yours just how easy it is. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Simple equation, Wormtail," Sirius explained logically, looking smug.

"Yeah, I know," Peter mumbled under his breath, his lips barely moving. Sirius had to lean forwards again to hear properly, a frustrated crease forming in his brow.

"So go for it!" he ordered. "Don't wait around!"

Peter's blush was starting to travel further and further down his neck, the stain extending past his shirt collar and into the tufts of mousy brown hair that fell limply onto his forehead. "I suppose."

"Nope!" Sirius interrupted. "You don't do any supposing. You just _do_. Ok?"

And Peter, grinning nervously, finally looked up at his friend. "Ok." He nodded somewhat reluctantly.

"Good," Sirius approved after a searching glance to make sure the boy wasn't simply appeasing him with a simple, deceiving answer. Finally satisfied he threw himself back down onto the bed, spread eagled with the duvet pushed down to his hips. He stared down at his covered chest, glad to find that for the first time such a violent movement didn't make his scar burn until his breath was stolen.

Peter, noticing where his friend's gaze rested, coughed lightly.

"How are you doing?" he pointed lamely at Sirius' torso.

Sirius glowered at the injury holding him captive within the white walls of the Hospital Wing. He could feel it every time he breathed, _in-burn-out-burn-in-burn-out-burn_, and through the sunny optimism plastered to his face he felt the injustice of having to listen to stories about his best friend needing help and support, rather than be witness to such things himself, bubble angrily under his skin, itching as badly the wound itself as it knitted together once more.

"Hmm, I'll live," the older boy muttered darkly. He fisted the sheets and curled his toes under the covers. "Can't wait to get out, though. I hate being stuck here."

And Peter, who never really knew how to deal with Sirius when he spoke in that low, rumbling voice, the tone of which promised something dark and unbidden, simply nodded.

* * *

If he wasn't fully aware of the utter mess his best friend was in because of her, Sirius would have been impressed at Lily Evans breaking curfew to visit him.

Of course, technically she wasn't breaking curfew, as she was on patrol and had every right to be in the corridors…still, he allowed himself a smug glow of satisfaction. Though that was soon quenched by the douse of cold water he threw himself at his own question.

"Where's James?"

The redhead, eyebrows knitted together, scowled as she replied. "In bed. Surprised he's not here with you," she mumbled, dropping into the chair next to him as if thinking herself to be welcome.

"Well I don't want to talk to you," Sirius sniffed haughtily. "Go away, Evans."

When she didn't move he glanced over at her, and instantly regretted it.

Her emerald eyes were glazed with guilty tears that clung to her pale eyelashes. She sniffled, scratching her nose awkwardly, waiting for Sirius to change his mind.

Which, with all the self-loathing he could muster, he did.

"What do you want, Evans?"

"How are you?" She leapt into conversation, ignoring his question.

"Peachy," Sirius said coolly, eyes narrowing as he shrugged. "I think my favourite bit so far is hearing all about how my best friend is so happy in his loving relationship with the girl of his dr…oh, wait, I think I remember hearing something about that-"

"Stop it, Black," Lily groaned into her palms, and her entire frame shuddered. "I feel horrible enough as it is. I can hate myself on my own terms; I don't need you helping me."

"And yet I still have this overwhelming urge to repeatedly insult you," Sirius snapped back, settling deeper into his pillows and glaring at the girl over his crossed arms.

The hospital wing hummed with antagonism, leaving them both squirming for an escape. Sirius could see Lily's internal struggle right before his very eyes. She clutched the sides of her chair with tense fingers, shoulders hunched to her ears and teeth worrying her lips.

His heart was torn between pleasure and guilt, tipping his temper towards patient but wary.

"Are you finished yet?" he asked politely, and Lily's wet eyes found his.

"Yes," she sniffed.

"Good. Now, it's time to make a deal, Evans."

Lily eyed the boy as if he'd grown an extra head, leaning backwards as if in fear Sirius' insanity was contagious. "A…deal?" she asked hesitantly. It was as if she was bargaining with the devil.

With a rueful blush she realised striking a deal with Sirius Black was probably the wizarding equivalent of such a thing.

"A deal," Sirius repeated, nodding his head slowly. "You're a bad girlfriend, right?"

"Ex," Lily muttered sullenly, but Sirius paid her no mind.

"James currently loathes your very existence, is that correct?" Only once Lily's bottom lip wobbled did he realise this was probably not the most tactful way to phrase the girl's situation, but it was too late to take his words back, so he accepted her feeble nod with an almost sympathetic smile. "I may be able to help you out, my darling," he informed her quietly, tapping his nose and winking.

There was pause, in which time seemed to slow, and then the room appeared to glow with the radiance of Lily Evans' smile.

"Really?" she cried, and her lips looking ready to split her entire face in two as she beamed at the boy, her adoring eyes positively worshipping him – much to the pleasure of Sirius' ever expanding ego. "You could-"

"I could," Sirius replied in a solemnly wise voice. "But you have to do something for me."

Here the redhead's smile faltered, and her expression would have been fitting had he asked her for a series of sexual favours in return for his help.

"Get James in that chair," Sirius ordered firmly, pointing at the seat Lily's backside was resting upon. "By tomorrow night. If he turns up before midnight tomorrow, I'll do everything in my power - being an almost martyred best friend - to get you back in his bed-"

"_Black!_"

"Good books!" Sirius corrected, smirking and flinching under Lily's flustered glare. "Good books! Honestly, such a prude." He rolled his eyes in a bored manner, and Lily glared as she stood abruptly, smoothing her robes and staring haughtily down at the boy with a disdain that was somewhat marred by her gleeful relief at his promise.

Tossing her bouncing curls over her shoulder with a flick of her head, Lily grinned down at Sirius, and was about to turn and walk away when she stopped, a thoughtful expression ghosting her face. Before she could change her mind she reached down and lightly brushed her lips against the boy's cheek, aware of the sudden heat that flushed his pale skin crimson.

By the time he had gathered his thoughts she was at the door, glancing back at him.

"I…" he began, but words failed him, so he grinned cheekily instead.

Lily merely shook her head, smiling sadly. "You're not half so bad as you make out to be, Sirius Black."

And without another word she slipped out of the door, leaving Sirius alone to his silent anticipation of the following day.

**THURSDAY**

His watch had been discarded for days, but on Thursday Sirius found himself counting the minutes that achingly stretched into hours. He'd woken up at the sound of Madam Worrell bustling around his bedside, fixing his sheets and smoothing his bandages.

The first time, not long before eight o'clock, he appreciated her mother hen clucking, accepting the hand that brushed against his forehead, the gentle hum as she waved her wand over a cup of potion before handing it to him.

The second time, midday ticking by, he remained tense and unhelpful, shifting awkwardly and sulking, only drinking his potion at her firm insistence.

And the third time, with ten minutes to go before the final bell of the school day rang, he was downright impatient. He pushed her soothing touch away, flapping at her movements and rejecting the cooing motherly sounds that erupted from her throat as she attempted to pacify him with gentle words and encouragements. In the end she'd left the cup on the table, snapping at him to drink it when he had grown up and was prepared to take his healing potion like a man.

Perhaps he felt a little guilty, but mostly he felt cross and lonely.

James was yet to turn up.

At lunch, like clockwork, Remus and India-Rose had visited as usual, but they hadn't stayed long, sensing his temper. Isla had stopped by twice throughout the day, but she, too, had been too wary of his short fuse to stay for more than a brief chat.

Finally (finally!) as he waved goodbye to four o'clock the sounds of new voices could be heard.

But it wasn't James.

"_…what on earth would possess you to…"_

_"…be fine, Liz! It's just a bit of…"_

_"It is not _just a bit of blood_ Jareth Sheehan, look at you!..."_

His eager mood vanishing Sirius slumped into his pillows, closing his eyes and lowering his breaths. He wasn't too sure why, but he didn't feel at all ready to face the blonde Gryffindor yet. Especially not with _him _there, too.

He strained his ears towards the conversation that took between the two seventh years and the hospital wing matron, and several times he heard the boy hiss in pain. Rolling over in what he hoped to be a believably sleepy gesture, Sirius peeked through his lashes.

No-one was looking at him, both women's eyes fixed on the Ravenclaw, whose entire face seemed to have swollen to bursting point, resulting in a constant flow of scarlet liquid seeping from both nostrils, dripping into his open mouth as he tilted his head back.

"It won't stop!" Lizzie cried fretfully. "I've tried everything!"

"L'z," Jareth mumbled in a muffled voice, choking on his own blood as he attempted to staunch the flow with slippery fingers. "S'ok! M'fine-"

"You are not fine, you stupid boy!" Lizzie yelled, stamping her foot as tears sprang from her eyes in frustration. "Madam Worrell, he's bleeding really fast, can't you-"

"Yes, yes of course I can, dear," the matron soothed in a calm, collected voice. "Whoops!" she cried as Jareth swayed when she released her steady grip on his arm. "Here we are, dear, you lie down." The two women guided the boy to lie down, two beds away from Sirius, who clamped his eyes shut as they approached.

He listened to the uncomfortable groans of Jareth, clearly trying to mask his pain behind tight lips, and a surge of envy flowed like acid through his veins as Sirius listened to the anxious mewings of Lizzie fussing over the Ravenclaw.

_No-no-no-no-no _he told himself over and over again, but he couldn't help as his fists clenched beneath the bedsheets. He could hear Sheehan pushing away Lizzie's attentions, and Sirius fought the urge to throw something at the boy.

Was the idiot actually _rejecting_ Elizabeth Harding?

He didn't think anybody was stupid enough to do such a thing.

The trickling guilt that bubbled in his stomach rose like bile to his mouth as he realised he, too, was perhaps guilty of something very similar, but he pushed the thought aside, bringing to mind a clear image of Isla Darcy, his _girlfriend_, whom he loved with all his heart-

He was distracted, however, by a loud cracking sound, followed by a (very unmanly, Sirius smirked internally) shriek from Jareth and the creak of the bedsprings as the bleeding boy flinched violently in pain.

"Ooh, there we are, dear," Madam Worrell quietened him, no doubt brushing a hand over his forehead the way she had done to Sirius' earlier. "I know that hurt, but look! The bleeding's stopped!"

"Hmph-ngh," was all Jareth seemed capable of replying with, so Lizzie stepped in for him.

"Thank you so much," and her voice positively oozed with relief. Sirius hoped the blush of anger in his face wasn't bright enough to be noticed from where he 'slept'. "Thank you! Oh, I was so worried…are you ok?" Her attention, it seemed, was back on Jareth.

Forced to listen to at least ten minutes of sympathetic drivel from the Gryffindor girl directed at another boy, Sirius kept his eyes closed, this time _hoping _sleep would save him. The last thing he needed to overhear was Lizzie getting cosy with that dork of a Ravenclaw.

He was almost slipping into blissful unconsciousness, however, when he heard his name. It took all his might not to leap from the bed as he heard that voice, that soft and loving voice, say his name.

"…Sirius' fault, and the Slytherins are all being so secretive. It's not fair!"

"I know," Jareth was soothing, and Sirius could just imagine them sat together, her hands in his as he comforted her.

"James looked ready to off himself he was so scared, and I- I-" Lizzie hiccupped, and only then did Sirius realised just how close Lizzie was. It seemed, while he had been distracted by the tantalising promise of sleep, she had moved to sit beside him.

Was it his imagination, or could he feel the sunshine warmth of her presence?

"So stupid," Lizzie muttered under her breath to herself, but both boys, conscious and supposedly-unconscious, heard her.

"No, you're not," Jareth insisted darkly, and Sirius was sure he'd have given anything to have been the one to say that to her instead. "You care about Black a lot, _Merlin _knows why-" Sirius held back a growl that threatened to escape his lips, and Lizzie admonished her friend with a sad chuckle. "-But you do. I know you, Lizzie. You care so much. You were right to be scared, and you're right to be angry. But this isn't helping."

Jareth fell silent and Sirius, for the first time, felt annoyed he'd stopped talking. What was he talking about?

"I think you need to wait and talk to Sirius about all this," Jareth said quietly, almost as an afterthought. Lizzie made an incoherent noise that could have meant anything, and Sirius gripped his lower lip between his teeth. "I mean it, Liz. No point wasting your tears."

Finally! Sirius' lips begged to twitch into a grin. Finally, something he and the Ravenclaw agreed upon.

"You think?" Lizzie whispered. Sirius considered it a miracle he managed to keep from nodding frantically at her, instead he let his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

"I do," Jareth replied.

Sirius was ready to kiss the boy.

"I suppose you're right," Lizzie sighed.

"When am I not?"

And there it was. Sirius' liking for the boy crashed and burned faster than it had taken flight. That flirty tone to his every word directed at the blonde was back again. Did Sheehan know no boundaries?

Fuming, Sirius almost missed Lizzie's words thanks to the bitter buzzing in his ears.

"When you decide it's a good idea to get into a fight with Gilbert Swanning, that's when."

"He insulted you-" Jareth mumbled in a sulky voice.

"No, he didn't-"

"He insulted your friend," the boy corrected, huffing loudly. "Means the same to me."

Oh, that boy played his part well, Sirius realised. He knew exactly what to say to make Lizzie glow. Loyalty was everything to Elizabeth, and sticking up for her friends was a sure fire way of winning her over completely.

Either that or this Sheehan kid was a genuinely nice person…

Sirius decided to go with conniving and sneaky. It was much easier to hate him when he was a mean schemer intent on stealing and breaking Elizabeth Harding's heart, rather than a charming do-gooder with high morals and no apparent bad side.

The sounds of Madam Worrell dismissing the pair interrupted Sirius' train of thought, and it was only as the sounds of two sets of footsteps disappearing were no more than a memory that reality once again slapped him in the face.

Elizabeth Harding's heart wouldn't need to be _stolen_, because Sirius Black, foolish Sirius Black, had already thrown it aside.

* * *

He didn't know how she managed it, but Sirius knew in that moment that not only was he going to give Lily Evans back her boyfriend, he was going to plan, pay for, and oversee her entire wedding, too.

He wasn't sure how long his solitude had been encroached upon for before he noticed, all he knew was that one minute he was twirling his wand in his hand, and the next sunshine yellow sparks were shooting from the end of the strip of wood as he dropped it in alarm, a name bursting from his lips.

"JAMES!"

James Potter smiled shakily as he walked towards his best friend, looking ready to run, but he seemed to be forcibly holding himself back. Perhaps he thought fast movements would break his _oh so fragile_ friend.

"Hey, Padfoot," he mumbled meekly under his breath, and he was about to sit down on the chair that, not twenty-four hours previously, Lily had been sitting in, promising to make him visit, when Sirius reached over and hugged him tightly, his face pressed into his shoulder. "H-Hey!" James cried, surprised by the ferocity of the embrace, returning it somewhat delicately, his arms wrapping tenderly around Sirius' bandaged body.

"You!" Sirius shouted, and he leaned back to punch James as hard as he could in the crease of his collar bone.

"Me?" James asked apprehensively, eyes widening at the glare he received as he rubbed the bright red mark left by Sirius' fist.

"Where the _hell _have you been, you – you-" But Sirius couldn't think of an insult worthy of the boy sitting by his bedside.

"I don't know," James shrugged, looking rightfully embarrassed.

"Did you get lost or something?" Sirius drawled.

"No!"

"Oh, so you _meant_ to leave me all alone here since Saturday, did you?"

James, looking horrified, began wringing his hands fretfully, and Sirius didn't have it in him to feel sorry for the guilt that dragged the boy's expression downwards.

"Of course not! Remus and India-Rose _promised_ they were visiting! And you had Isla, right? And Peter. And even Juliette-"

"Yes, Prongs. That's right. Even _Juliette Swindon _managed a visit and you didn't." Sirius nodded gravely, his expression stony. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up his annoyance, though. He was too happy to see his best friend again.

James, eyes crinkling at the corners as his face glowed with desperation, dropped his head until his chin was resting heavily on his chest. Didn't Sirius understand? He'd been so sure Sirius would understand. "I'm sorry," he breathed, the words ghosting his lips. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, barely louder than the first apology.

Sirius felt his resolve shatter like a glass wall surrounding him.

"I know," he mumbled. He wanted to say more, and he knew James did, too, but neither of them had the slightest idea what exactly it was they were supposed to say.

So instead they glanced up from their knees in unison, catching gazes and, miraculously, grinned.

"You're such an idiot," Sirius snorted fondly, reaching up to ruffle James' mane of dark tufts and spikes.

"Yeah, and you're such a genius," the younger boy replied in a sulky voice, but the curve of his lips revealed the joke in his words.

"At least I don't break up with the girl of my dreams after about a week of dating her." Sirius raised a single eyebrow, pulling the _unimpressed _expression that he generally saved for teachers who bored him with their dull subjects.

James flushed, looking a mixture of hurt and angry.

"You don't-"

"Oh yes," Sirius interrupted, waggling a finger at his friend. "Yes, I really think I do. See, I've had, let me see…_six _different versions told to me since Sunday morning. Six, Potter. And all of them have brought me to a very strongly formed conclusion."

Positive he didn't want to know the answer, James looked up with a question in his eyes.

"You are an even bigger idiot than Lily Evans."

"_What?_" James shrieked, looking outraged. "How am I? She's the one – why would you – how can you – _what?"_

Sirius smirked, rolling his eyes and shifting deeper into his pillows. If he was going to give a _James' Romance _lecture, he figured he might as well be comfortable for it.

"She flirted with Widmore, right?" James nodded, and was about to comment when Sirius held up a hand for silence, feeling a little too much like Professor McGonagall for his own liking. "And you had several choices to pick from on how you should have reacted. Bending your fork into a Q _not_ being an option."

Here Sirius' focus slipped again at the mental image of James at the breakfast table, holding a metal letter. It was just as ridiculous as when Remus was relayed the story to him the first time. He chose to ignore James' grumbling.

"You could have just cried right there in the Great Hall. You could have beaten the crap out of Widmore. _Or_ you could have retaliated and flirted with a bunch of girls to get back at her."

"That's what I did!" James defended, and Sirius gasped in frustration.

"Exactly! Totally the wrong choice, you _moron_." As he'd expected, using one of Lily's favourite insults seemed to equate to slapping James around the face.

"Oh, so you reckon I should have starting weeping like a girl in front of everyone, do you?" James spat sulkily. Sirius, though amused by the idea, shook his head.

"No, you should have chosen secret option number four."

"What's secret option number four?" the boy asked in a hesitant voice.

"_Talk _to her. Tell her the truth."

"The truth?"

"That you're both idiots, but that you still love her and you'd do anything to see her smile at you again," Sirius shrugged. "You don't have to make a big thing about it in front of everyone. Just say how you feel."

James stared in awe for moment, speechless.

"Padfoot," he murmured. "How is it that you're the most notorious heartbreaker in the world, but you can come up with romantic shit like that?"

It was supposed to be praise, but Sirius looked discomfited by his words.

"I mean, thanks," James corrected hastily. "But how come you're so good at giving people advice, but you've never, you know…" He shrugged, tailing off under the hard look Sirius threw him.

"Managed to follow it myself?" the older boy asked, waving a casual hand as if he didn't care at all, but the way he avoided meeting James' eyes said something entirely different. "Never found anyone worth following it for."

This was a logic James could understand. He nodded, and Sirius watched his best friend swallow his words easily.

_Lies. Lies. Lies._ He pushed aside the image of his hands in gold curls and the feel of a light green stare upon him and the scent of warm almond that always clung to pale skin…

_Lies. Lies. Lies._

It repeated like a mantra in his head, and he pushed the thoughts aside with an internal violence that he was sure would soon leave him with a headache.

"Lily, though," Sirius mumbled, thinking back to the gleeful expression that had opened up the redhead's entire face like a ray of sunlight at the promise of Sirius' help. "She's worth it."

The squirming knots in his stomach, Sirius decided, were worth seeing that same warm smile soften James' face, lips curling and eyes widening the same way they always had done at the mention of _Evans_.

"Yeah," he murmured, grinning at Sirius with badly concealed excitement. "Yeah, she is."

**FRIDAY**

If James' absence had been forty days and nights of rain, then that would make Sirius' mood when he awoke on Friday morning the rainbow that followed.

He wasn't entirely sure, but he had an inkling the smile that stretched across his lips had been there while he slept, too. He woke early, utterly unsurprised when James strolled casually in to enjoy breakfast with him before school started, as if they had been at the same routine all week.

It was natural, and it was so very _Marauderish, _despite being only half of a whole. According to James, Remus and India-Rose were having a lover's tiff, and Remus knew it was more than his life was worth to choose breakfast with friends over sorting things out with his girlfriend. And apparently the last James had seen of Peter, he had been walking to breakfast with a sweet-smiled Hufflepuff by the name of Ruth Saldana.

They laughed and teased, and for almost half an hour they enjoyed a never ceasing conversation that did not once involve Lily Evans or Slytherin fights.

It did, however, just as James was readying himself for his first lesson (which he was already ten minutes late for) include a quarrel over Quidditch matches.

"You have got to be kidding me," Sirius cried, throwing his covers off and, after a moment of struggling, standing out of his bed to confront James from an equal height.

"Nope." James shook his head, bottom lip pushing outwards slightly in his _I'm more stubborn than you _expression. "No way are you getting on a broomstick tomorrow. Hodgson says he's fine filling in for you. It's all sorted."

"James!" Sirius screeched, hiding how painfully he breathless was at just getting up too quickly by sitting back down and pretending it was the shock of this betrayal that caused him to fall backwards. "You can't-"

"I know I don't act like it with you, Sirius, but I'm still your Captain," James said sharply. Concern played his expression, more obvious than his authoritative anger, but Sirius didn't want more fretting and worrying. He wanted to play a Quidditch game. "Even if you _weren't_ only getting out of the hospital wing tomorrow morning," he said brusquely, swinging his bag over his shoulder and preparing to stride dramatically to the door for an effectively spectacular exit. "You've been out of play for a week. We've changed tactics. And yeah!" he added. "It's not like we're playing the Slytherins tomorrow, anyway. It's just a friendly against Hufflepuff. It's not even part of the tournament. You. Are. Not. Playing."

His tone was final, but Sirius was still ready to put up a fight.

He was forced to accede, however, because before he could open his mouth to form an argument James had stalked theatrically out of the room, leaving Sirius behind to stew in his mood.

It seemed in his absence Sirius had forgotten how damn annoying James Potter could be.

Sitting back in his excessive pile of pillows Sirius grinned despite his temper, relishing the fact he could finally place his hands behind his head without wincing for first time in a week. He'd be running and jumping before he – before _anyone_ – knew it.

And he would get into that Quidditch match, even if it killed him…or James. He had to, if only to prove to the Slytherins that nothing they could do would ever hold him back for long.


	26. A Match Made In Hell

**A/N **_I'm back! Yes, actually back, though I've been gone so long you've probably forgotten who I am – though I hope you haven't forgotten this story! Updates may be slow, but I can safely promise that they will keep coming :) A real shout out to the author Essalinn, for the lovely, lovely review that really kicked me back into gear.  
_

_I don't know if any old readers of this story will still be interested in following it, but if you are all previous chapters have been edited and cleaned up a bit, but the core plot is the same. It would be really nice to get a couple of reviews to know someone at least is still interested in reading :)_

_[Also, to the author Aebbe when you read this chapter: it has been planned since long before I stopped updating the first time. I have not stolen your idea of a Quidditch match going wrong alongside every other one of your ideas my brain seems content to nick off with ;)]_

* * *

**25. A Match Made In Hell**

_**Of bludgers, secrets, and debts.**_

**Sunday 09:00 AM**

"Everyone, please, if I may have your attention."

The population of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, congregated as they were in the Great Hall, fell silent and still under the calm voice and stern eye of Professor Albus Dumbledore.

"I understand you are all very worried, and I have brought you here to put your minds at ease after the events of yesterday's Quidditch match.

"I regret to inform you that both Miss Marianna Westley of Gryffindor and Mr Robert Kendell of Hufflepuff have been transferred to St. Mungo's at the request of their respective parents, where they will remain until such a time as they are pronounced in full health. We have been assured already by the Healers tending to them that they will make a full recovery, and hopefully that time will come soon.

"Of the Gryffindor team Mr Quincelin, Mr Potter, Mr Wilson, and Miss Swindon will recover in the Hospital Wing, as will Miss Peart, Miss Cole and Mr Acklesby of the Hufflepuff team. Madam Worrell has requested, and I agree with her, that visiting hours are to be restricted while the Hospital Wing is so crowded. I know you are all very worried, but I promise you that your friends are in safe hands."

Professor Dumbledore paused to survey the students, noting the hard expressions and teary eyes across the Great Hall of both teachers and students alike.

"I have also heard certain accusations and rumours spreading about the culprits of this unfortunate incident. I am here to put these fires out now, lest they spread further afield.

"The bludgers in question have been magically disposed of by Ministry officials, and an investigation is underway. However, as of yet there is no evidence to suggest who exactly is at fault, and any student found to be naming a fellow pupil shall be swiftly reprimanded. This is a very serious matter, and neither I, nor or any other teacher will take kindly to unfound, and most likely false, accusations. Have I made myself clear?"

There was a rumbling among the students as they hummed their acceptance reluctantly; some shooting dirty glares at one another across the room and others bowing their heads in shame.

"As I said to you all yesterday, if anyone has _any _information that could help us identify the guilty party of this appalling incident, please come forward. But be aware that '_I just know' _is not an acceptable source of information.

"Thank you for your attention. If you could all return to your dormitories until lunchtime, it would be greatly appreciated."

* * *

**Saturday 08:07 AM**

Sirius perched on the edge of his bed, his toes tapping nervously on the floor. He'd felt a small twinge of pain in his chest as he'd hastily thrown on his school robes, but he was sure it was nothing. What was most important was getting out the Hospital Wing before Madam Worrell returned.

If she caught him, he'd _never _get away with playing in the Quidditch match that would be starting in a little under three hours.

He could hear her humming the newest Fantasia Xylena melody loudly as she bustled about her office.

He just…needed…

_Now!_

Light feet dancing, holding his arms up as if hoping it would help him run with quieter gait, Sirius leapt of the bed he had been quarantined to for the past week and sped towards the exit. The doors were getting closer, _closer_, his heart was racing with delight as freedom tasted sweeter with every step he took until…

Making sure to stop the door from slamming shut behind him, Sirius let out the breath he had been holding as, relieved, he escaped the confines of the Hospital Wing.

A grin spread across his face. With one hand on his wand and the other swaying casually by his side a newly freed Sirius Orion Black sauntered down the corridor with only one thought on his mind: how best to impress the entire team with a glorious, spectacular return that would lift their spirits and bring cause for celebration even _before _they smashed Hufflepuff to pieces.

A friendly game it might have been, but a victory was a victory nonetheless, and a victory it would most certainly be.

His smug solitude, however, was interrupted by a very loud, very staged cough.

Sirius faltered in his swagger.

He _knew _that cough of disapproval. He'd heard it plenty of times before over the years.

"And just what do you think you are doing?"

Sirius swivelled on the balls of his feet, plastering an innocent grin over his briefly panicked expression.

"Moony, old boy!" he cried, opening his arms to embrace his friend. Remus, however, simply folded his arms and stepped back.

"Sirius, I'm giving you until the count of three to get back to your bed."

"Moony, mate, even my _mother _gave me to the count of five-"

"_One_," Remus growled, extending his thumb in count.

"Remus, I have to play. You know I do. Look! I'm all better! _Look _at me!"

"_Two…_"

"Remus John, it is not your place to dictate-"

"_Two and a half..._"

"I don't care what you say. You have no control over-"

"If I get to three, Sirius, I'm fetching James."

His hand half way to pushing Remus aside, Sirius paused.

"You wouldn't," he hissed, to which Remus could only smile sweetly.

"Come with me," Remus sighed, taking his friend by the elbow, deaf to Sirius' protests as they returned to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

**Saturday 08:12 AM**

"Shouldn't you be heading to breakfast?"

Severus Snape's stooped frame paused and he swivelled on his heel, his arms steeled at his sides.

"I could ask you the same thing," Severus replied as he took in Regulus Black's stony expression.

The boy was starting to become something of a real nuisance to Severus, who knew better than to pick a fight with another member of his own house – let alone one so popular and influential both in and out of Hogwarts' walls.

"I've already had breakfast."

"I'm sure," Severus sneered, making to leave.

"Snape," Regulus called. Severus' impatient huff of a reply was loud and admonishing, and the younger boy felt abruptly like a pestering child following a parent. He brushed the feeling aside before it could render him silent, and approached the seventh year. "I saw you talking to Gilbert Swanning yesterday."

Severus neither admitted nor denied the boy's statement. He inclined his head expectantly, making it clear he was only very reluctantly deigning to converse with the sixth year.

"Why?" Regulus pressed.

"We share several classes, Black. Is it impossible to think perhaps we discuss our education sometimes?"

"You weren't talking about your classes."

"I don't recall you being anywhere _near _close enough to listen to what we were discussing, which for your information was a Charms essay."

"Swanning's up to something, isn't he? He's planning something."

Perhaps Regulus intended to come across as knowledgeable and accusing. In truth, Snape thought with a sneer, he sounded like nothing more than a scared, paranoid little boy.

"I have no idea what Swanning is up to, beyond that he has chosen to write his essay on the pros and cons of enhancement charms on everyday objects."

Regulus paused, for the first time doubting himself. He had been so sure Swanning was sneaking behind his back, maybe still trying to pull a stunt on the Quidditch match despite the fact Slytherin were no longer even playing today. But Severus Snape's eyes were sure and unreadable, his expression stony. Perhaps Regulus _was _mistaken…

"You're sure Swanning isn't up to anything?"

"Black, I spoke with Gilbert Swanning for all of three minutes yesterday. We discussed our Charms essays and the hand in deadline, which if you want to know is Monday afternoon. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Severus turned depart a second time, but Regulus grabbed his arm abruptly, holding fast. Severus winced as the boy's sharp fingers dug into his elbow joint, but did not tug free of his grip.

"If anything happens at the Quidditch match today they'll know it was us. They'll think we did it to get back at them for banning us from playing."

"Well then it's lucky for us nothing is going to happen, isn't it?" Severus hissed. He pulled his arm sharply and Regulus released him. Straightening his robes Severus threw the younger boy a scornful look of disapproval. "I hear your big brother gets out of the hospital wing today. Why don't you go get him some flowers?"

Before Regulus could retort, an angry flush in his sharp featured face, Severus had turned and walked briskly away. Regulus watched him go, an unexplainable hollow knot tightening in his chest.

* * *

**Saturday 9.23 AM**

"Jim, will you just – Jimmy boy I was trying to – I only wanted – James – _James_ – Prongs it's not a big – Prongs – James – _Jim_ – don't – will you just – _look_, I didn't – _James_, I wasn't – Prongs!"

"_And another thing!"_ James continued over Sirius' spluttering, which was growing shriller with every word. "If you ever undermine my authority when I tell you that you are _not _playing a Quidditch match again, I will personally confiscate your broomstick and ground you for a month!"

James' resemblance to his mother in that moment, his windswept hair frazzled and his accusing finger jabbing the air sporadically as he ranted, was uncanny. Sirius refrained from telling his friend this, however, because he doubted very much it would help his cause.

"Look at me! I'm fine!" Sirius groaned as finally James paused to draw breath, pulling down his shirt to reveal the faded white scar left by the curse that had left him bedridden for a week.

They were in the hospital wing, and the sounds of Madam Worrell's disapproving clucks were still coming from her office, remnants of the long lecture she had given her patient after he was dragged back to his bed by Remus Lupin a little over an hour ago.

Sirius had hoped Remus would have the good grace not to tell James of his shabby escape attempt, but apparently not. Almost twenty minutes ago the storm of James Potter's wrath had blazed through the double doors, and for the better part of his speech James had closer resembled a dragon than a human being. Sirius was convinced steam had literally issued from his friend's ears at least twice, but perhaps that was a mild exaggeration.

"You're not fine, you're _better_. Now, you are going to accompany Remus and India-Rose and everyone else into the stands at eleven o'clock, and you are going to watch us play a friendly game of Quidditch against Hufflepuff. You hear me?"

Sirius glowered, and began muttering under his breath phrases that his mother would have scourgio'd his tongue for.

"What did you think was going to happen when you turned up at the pitch anyway? That I'd just shrug and say, oh well, you're here now you might as well play?"

Two bright red spots had appeared high on Sirius' sharp cheekbones, and despite himself James let out a muffled snort of laughter.

"You thought I'd give in, didn't you? You really thought if you just came in at the last minute and gave me no time to think, you'd get away with it. You daft flobberworm."

Sirius buried himself deeper into his loathsome hospital bedcovers and snarled between profanities.

"Padfoot, it's no big deal. You don't even care about _Quidditch _that much. You just want to show up the Slytherins who – oh." James' consolations died in his throat and he winced. Sirius stared grumpily at his hands. The rigid position of Sirius' frame screamed out his wish for his best friend to _just_ _stop talking_, but James took a tentative step closer, twisting his fingers together awkwardly. "Padfoot, mate, you don't have to, you know. You've got nothing to _prove_. Those Slytherins, everyone knows what happened, they don't think – you know. You don't have to worry about-"

"Whatever," Sirius snapped, folding his arms tightly across his newly healed chest, as if holding his ribcage in place.

"Sirius-"

"It's fine, Prongs. I'm fine."

James winced again, letting out a slow, whistling sigh as he sat down on the edge of his best friend's bed. He placed a cautious hand on Sirius' shoulder, and was glad when he wasn't shrugged off, though Sirius' sulky expression was not promising.

"No you're not," James said with a sad smile.

Sirius sniffed pointedly.

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not," Sirius replied, and his grin was reluctant beneath his scowl.

"I really, really am," James corrected, and this time Sirius' eyes flicked up to meet his friend's. There was a brief, silent exchange of mutual irritation before Sirius wriggled uncomfortably under his duvet.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. I'll see you at the match."

"With-"

"With _Remus_ and _India-Rose_ and _everyone else_," Sirius interjected in a poor imitation of James that sounded something closer to the voice he usually saved for Juliette impressions. James grinned, bouncing off the bed and ruffling Sirius' hair fondly. He was cuffed away with flapping hands.

"Glad we've sorted that out. Now, what in the name of Merlin's underpants have you been saying to my mother? I got a letter from her yesterday, saying the most ridiculous load of waffle about relationships getting in the way of education that I've ever heard…"

* * *

**Saturday 09.52 AM**

"What was Remus telling James earlier?" Juliette asked, her eyes on the back of India-Rose's head as she walked two paces behind her, both leaning towards the wall of the corridor to avoid a mad rush of giggling third years.

She had assumed it was bad news due to the odd shade of puce James' cheeks had turned mid-conversation with his friend, but to her surprise the girl ahead of her let out a snigger. India-Rose tilted her head back to shoot Juliette a conspiratorial grin.

"Remus caught Sirius trying to sneak out of the Hospital Wing. I didn't hear all of it, but my bet is he was going to try play in the match today."

Juliette's derisive laughter echoed over the heads of the surprisingly busy corridor, and she scurried forward to walk side by side with her friend, elbowing a couple of younger students out of her way so they could walk amicably together.

"Bet James just loved that one. I take it he took off to put Black in his place?"

"I'd have given anything to eavesdrop on _that _conversation."

Juliette snorted, shaking her head.

"Why? You already know what they'll have said. _Oh Siwius, I love you, please pretty please don't play the match, don't hurt yourself – Oh Jamie, I love you, please pretty please let me play the match – No no no Padsy, you're too special to me, oh you so wonderful – Ok Prongsy, you special to me too_. Then they cried and plaited each other's hair and gossiped about Lily."

India-Rose rolled her eyes. Juliette shrugged innocently, throwing her a look of amusement that said quite clearly said _you can't help the truth_.

They were interrupted at that moment by a light-hearted, teasing voice.

"All set for the match, Letty?"

India-Rose quirked an eyebrow, but Juliette's expression had already melted into a small, secretive smile. It was quickly replaced, however, by a mocking scowl and a snooty sniff of disdain.

"Of course, _Bertie_," she replied, turning around to look over at the boy suddenly walking by her other side. His hair was the longest she'd ever seen it, almost entirely hiding his ears, and the freckles that once spattered his nose seemed to have doubled, spilling onto his cheeks and spreading up across his forehead.

In fact, Robert Kendell possibly looked closer to boyhood at eighteen years of age that he did at sixteen, when he had been Juliette's boyfriend.

"I heard you had a bit of trouble finding a stand-in beater," Robert teased good-naturedly.

"We've managed just fine thanks. I just hope you can keep up with us this time. How many did _you_ manage to score in the last match, Bertie? Two?"

"Three, actually," Robert sniffed pointedly, but his eyes were alight with humour.

"Oh yes, that's right. I remember. Didn't _I _score, what was it? _Nine_?"

"Maybe."

"Well, we'll see who's _all set _for the match this time, then. Won't we?" Juliette smiled sweetly, and was rewarded with a laugh and a waggle of fingers in a wave.

"Looking forward to it, Letty. See you, India-Rose!"

And Robert Kendell took off down a corridor to the right, leaving the two girls to bustle their way back to their common room together.

India-Rose, who had remained silently amused throughout the exchange, raised her eyebrows at Juliette when she finally turned back to her friend. At the vaguely accusing expression, a pale shade of pink swelled in Juliette's cheeks. She shrugged off her surprise, her curls bouncing around her face.

"What?" she asked. "We're playing a match today."

"Yeah, of _Quidditch_. Not roly-poly between the sheets."

"You did _not _just say roly-poly between the sheets."

"Yes, yes I did," India-Rose sniffed haughtily, her eyes flashing with delight. Juliette made a gagging sound.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to terminate our friendship. I can't associate with someone that uses the term roly-poly betw…oh god, I can't even say it again."

"Stop changing the subject."

"I wasn't doing anything!" Juliette huffed defensively.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," India-Rose soothed with a pat on the shoulder. "There's no Quidditch rules against inter-team flirting as far as I'm aware. Ask James. He'll know."

"I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were. Don't worry about it. You're allowed, you know."

The blush filling Juliette's neck was starting to spread down her neck in odd splotches. She flicked her hair around her shoulders, trying desperately to hide it as best as she could. India-Rose, taking pity on her, wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist and squeezed as they began to make their way up the long flight of stairs towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"You know, it wouldn't be the end of the world if you-"

"No," Juliette said firmly, impatient and uncomfortable. She wriggled out of India-Rose's grip. "Been there, not going back."

A suspicious frown crept over India-Rose's curious blue eyes. Juliette sped up her walk, suddenly eager to get to her dorm.

"Why did you break up with him, anyway?"

Juliette shrugged dismissively. She grabbed her friend's hand and began to skip down the corridor, the Fat Lady Portrait soon in sight.

"We went out for like a month. I don't think that even counts as a break up."

India-Rose opened her mouth to retort, but thought the better of it. She remained silent, and allowed herself to be dragged down the corridor, her head suddenly busy with the pondering thoughts of her strange, flirty friend's surprising lack of love life.

* * *

**Saturday 10:19 AM**

_"James?"_

James Potter paused, one foot in the doorway of the Gryffindor Quidditch team changing rooms. The voice had been soft, but strangely commanding. He did not turn around for several seconds, and when he did it was slowly, warily, as if half expecting to be confronted by a host of Death Eaters. "Lily?"

"Good luck today," Lily said, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet.

James frowned slightly, turning his head a little to the side, just to make sure the redhead wasn't speaking to someone behind him. The action pulled a grin from the girl's lips, and he blushed.

"It's just a friendly game, Lily," James shrugged, absently pulling at a stray twig in the tail of his broom that he hadn't noticed.

"I know," Lily insisted, her eyes glowing with something akin to embarrassment. "But good luck. I'll talk to you later?"

"Really?"

"Of course."

Their smiles glowed, shy and excited, like they were sharing a secret that nobody else in the world could ever hope to understand. It occurred to James, with a fluttering in his chest, that they _were_, in a strange sort of way. "Thanks, Lily," he said without really knowing why.

It appeared Lily knew, though, because she rolled her eyes and grinned.

"Go fly, Potter. Good luck."

The redhead twirled on the spot, and panic seemed to clog James' throat momentarily as she floated away in the direction of the stands where no doubt the others were waiting for her.

"Lily!" he cried out, and she looked back over her shoulder, eyes wide at the alarm in his voice. "I…"

Words failed him, but he was rewarded nonetheless with a second secret smile.

"I know, James," Lily said quietly, and he believed her. "Go on. I'll talk to you after the match."

* * *

**Saturday 10.59 am**

It was almost eleven o'clock. The Quidditch match would be starting any moment now. The castle was not as empty as it usually would have been. It was only a friendly game; the scores had nothing to do with the tournament, so breakfast had not been a buzzing affair. It had seemed to be an average Saturday.

Over half of the school had turned up for the match, but there were plenty of empty seats. Quidditch was always less exciting when the outcome had no effect on the sacred scoreboard around which each team captain lived their lives.

Regulus hadn't planned to watch the match – he knew it would only upset him, knowing _he_ would have been leading _his_ team out onto the pitch, if it hadn't been for Snape and his spells - yet a brief conversation with Carlyle Lockby, one of his beaters, had him racing towards the pitch.

He glanced at his watch with every pause for breath. It seemed as if time was mocking him, speeding up the faster he ran, and by the time he made it outside it was surely past eleven o'clock.

He was breathless as the chilly February air slapped him, but he didn't stop. He slid his way down the steps and his run was closer to a stagger when his face nearly collided with the ground in his haste. Scrambling up from his knees he kept running, his leg muscles burning.

In horror he gasped as he caught sight of fourteen figures, still frustratingly far away, leaping into the sky and soaring up past the audience stands.

Regulus' efforts dropped with a hopeless cry. He was so close to the pitch, but it was too late. Whatever damage destined to be done was going to be done.

He'd heard about the argument between his brother and the captain of the Gryffindor team. Apparently Sirius had tried to sneak out of the hospital wing early and collect his broom, but had been caught by the little pack follower Lupin, who had sent him straight back to his bed for his final dose of healing potion. Rumour had spread that Potter had been furious, and for the first time in his life Regulus found himself in full, albeit silent agreement with the boy.

It was the knowledge that Sirius wasn't in the air that allowed him the calm to slow down. Because at least his brother wasn't in danger, sitting (sulkily, no doubt) in the stands with his friends.

"Regulus!"

Lockby, it seemed, had followed him.

"What do you want?" he snapped, turning back to see the stocky seventh year puffing, red faced and sweaty.

"You can't-" Lockby begged, glancing up at the pitch and back at the castle. "Gilbert made me promise-"

"What Swanning made you promise is of _no consequence, Lockby_," Regulus roared, pointing a finger into the older boy's face until he blinked stupidly. "_I _am your Captain, _not _Gilbert _Swanning_. You hear me? _Me_. Do you – do you even _realise _what they've done?"

"But you said yes to it!" Lockby cried, looking outraged at the sixth year's betrayal. "Gilbert talked to you about it, and you said y-"

"And at the time," Regulus hissed, "It wasn't going to look like us Slytherins were pulling petty acts of almost _murder_ in retaliation to being banned from Quidditch. Do you not see? They will _know_ it's us. Because who else is going to sabotage the game - the game _and _the teams! – other than the team that was _supposed_ to be playing?" He had one hand clenched tightly in his hair, as if perhaps ripping it out might exorcise his anger, but the other twitched dangerously towards his wand.

They were done for - just like the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

"What did they even do?" Regulus wondered aloud, eyes searching the game. It seemed to be going smoothly enough, the crowds cheering, weaker than usual but their enthusiastic voices were still carried by the unforgiving winds above.

"I thought Gilbert told-"

"No. He was supposed to, but then the entire Slytherin House was thrown into the spotlight after what happened to Siri – my brother. I didn't realise the _pranks_ were still going on," he explained through gritted teeth.

"The bludgers," Lockby shrugged in an obvious tone, and despite his anxiety he couldn't hide the look of manic excitement that flooded his expression. "They'll go mental any minute now. I don't know. Gilbert didn't – I don't know. He just said they would, yeah."

His laughter was hollow with malice.

Perhaps it made him less of a future Death Eater. Perhaps it made him less of a Slytherin. Perhaps it made him less of a man. But for whatever reason, Regulus Arcturus Black just couldn't find it in himself to laugh.

He wanted to reply, but the noise of the Quidditch stadium had changed abruptly.

The cheers had melted into screams.

* * *

**Saturday 11.39 AM**

Sebastian Potter blinked wearily, his forehead resting against his palms as he stared down at a sheet of paper that he was _sure _should be making sense to him. The fuzzy words seemed to leap to and fro across the page, and dancing stars kept erupting every time he tried to focus.

The voice of his superior, Howard Lyle, which had been droning for almost two hours, was slowly dissolving into nothing more than a series of out of tune bass notes with only the occasionally pause for breath.

He'd been awake solidly for almost two days, and he knew if the exhaustion didn't kill him, his wife would surely do it herself when she found out. Which she would, of course. Jacinta Potter _always _found out.

Shaking himself back into a somewhat attentive state, Sebastian glanced to his left to see Rob Morretty frowning in concern at him.

"_Please _tell me you've slept," Rob grumbled in his friend's ear under the pretence of dropping and picking up his quill from the floor like a naughty schoolboy.

Sebastian tilted his head a little in the smallest of shakes. Rob's sigh of disapproval was not particularly encouraging.

Sebastian had _planned_ to sleep, he really had. But there had been the European Auror Ambassadors to meet with, and young trainee Danny Wilcox who needed help, and that incident down in Southend that needing tending to, and then the paperwork over that fire in Ilkley last week.

And a whole host of emergency messages, errands, and requests had suddenly arrived for Sebastian from across the Ministry board, as if the entire of the Ministry of Magic had suddenly banded together in a mass effort to deny him sleep, finally bringing him to this very meeting.

Rob tapped his watch subtly and glared questioningly at Sebastian, who merely shrugged off the question with a wave of his hand.

A knock at the door brought Head Auror Lyle to silence, and his forehead creased with overused frown wrinkles as he barked for the intruder to enter.

A young man peered through the doorway, his dark brown eyes wide and bright as he stared around the room, resting on Sebastian before returning to Mr Lyle.

"What do you want?" Lyle gruffed impatiently.

"Mr Potter, sir," the young man gasped. "There's an urgent message for him. It's an emergency."

For the briefest, most ridiculous of moments, Sebastian thought perhaps his wife had sensed his exhausted distress from afar and called to rescue him.

The happy delusion was short lived.

Heaving himself from his chair he followed the man out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"What is it?" he asked calmly, if a little croakily, leaning slightly towards the fretful young man; _Martin_, Sebastian recalled his name. He was sure he'd taught him in a few training classes only a couple of years ago.

"It's from Hogwarts, sir," Martin said. "It's about your son. There's been some sort of accident. Your wife's already on her way to the school."

Whether Martin said anymore, Sebastian didn't know.

"Tell Lyle I won't be back until tomorrow, maybe Monday," he said firmly, without time to apologise for his wrongly directed anger when Martin flinched at his tone.

He didn't bother looking back to make sure Martin did as he was told. He didn't bother returning to ask Rob if he'd take care of things at the office for him, knowing such matters went unsaid and unasked for between them.

He thought only of his son, and what could possibly have happened.

* * *

**Saturday 11.48 am**

"Padfoot _stop_, you can't-"

"_Don't _you tell me what to do, Remus Lupin!"

"Sirius, quiet, people are-"

"Are what_, Moony_? Looking? Fucking let them look. Now move out of my way before-"

The Gryffindor common room was packed, the very air thick with gulping sniffles and murmured consolations. But countless pairs of glassy, red-rimmed eyes were flitting back and forth between the two seventh year boys standing near the portrait entrance.

Dark shadows that forewarned an approaching full moon were heavy beneath Remus' tired eyes, but still he stood strong against Sirius, who even in his state of panic looked reluctant to force his friend aside.

"Get out of my way, Remus."

"There is _nothing _you can do, Sirius. We have to wait for McGonagall to come back."

Remus wondered vaguely how on earth James had handled a provoked Sirius for the past seven years. It was _always _James that dealt with Sirius' tempers. By now James would probably have a hand on Sirius' shoulder, maybe his arm. Physical contact would, at least, have been initiated by now had he been standing here.

Remus, on the other hand, was convinced that if he so much as raised a finger Sirius would reach over and snap it in a heartbeat.

Before he could even contemplate going for a tentative hand on the shoulder approach Sirius had fisted the front collar of Remus' robes. Remus winced at the sudden jerk, abruptly finding himself leaning back to avoid bashing noses with his friend.

"Don't you _dare-_"

"Stop this _right now_, Padfoot," a cracked voice ordered hotly, and it was only once he'd been dropped that Remus realised Sirius had been holding up at least half of his weight in his threatening grip.

Peter was standing a short distance away, his face ruddy and blotched with worrying anger and his hands balled into plump fists by his sides.

"Stay out of this, Peter."

"Why?" Peter demanded, his chest puffing out with newfound courage as he stomped over to force his way between his two friends.

"Because this has nothing to-"

"YES IT DOES!" Peter shouted, and several pairs of eyes had that been watching from across the common room quickly averted their gaze awkwardly. "It has _everything _to do with _all _of us!"

And to almost everyone's surprise Peter did not just point his finger amongst the three squabbling Marauders, or even towards the clustered seventh year girls huddled close by, sharing a loveseat between them. Instead he pointed towards the entire house behind him, crammed into the common room as they were.

"James and – and _all _the team were our friends, Sirius. Almost all the team were hurt. And they were all our friends. So stop, just _stop-_" His fear under Sirius' sharp eyes caught up with him, though, and words finally failed him. Peter swallowed loudly, his chest heaving with breaths laboured by frightened rage.

Remus caught his upper lip between his teeth, worrying at the raw skin that was chapped and starting to peel as he turned his anxious eyes on Sirius, who appeared to be trying to cut right through Peter with his eyes. The whites of Sirius' eyes were pinked and glowing out of his pale face, and Gryffindor House held their breaths.

For a moment Sirius looked ready to say something to Peter, and Remus braced himself for an onslaught of insults to come spewing from the older boy's mouth.

But nothing happened. Sirius' hard gaze fell to the empty wall behind Peter for only a moment, and with the briefest of looks towards Remus, not quite reaching his face, Sirius turned on his heel and stalked into the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories.

"I didn't…"

What little bravado Peter had left over from the confrontation fizzled away into a shy mumble. Remus pressed a warm hand to his friend's shoulder, offering a weak, encouraging smile that Peter only shrugged at.

"I'll talk to him."

As Remus made to leave a voice called his name. He turned to see a pair of wide sapphire eyes surrounded by a thick frame of clumped lashes. Her dark hair was pulled out of the way into a tight ponytail, sharpening her features unnaturally and she looked all the more tired for it.

"I have to go talk to Sirius."

"Remus, you can't be serious-"

"India-Rose," Remus said with an impatient sigh. "I have to go talk to Sirius."

"Why are you appeasing him?" she demanded him, following him to the foot of the stairs. "He's being a selfish prick, Remus and you know it."

Remus turned his face into his shoulder, away from his girlfriend's accusing eyes.

"I have to go talk to Sirius."

"No you _don't_," India-Rose hissed, taking hold of Remus' arm even though he'd made no move to leave. "Let him stew in his own misery if he wants. It's not your job to put up with _that_."

Remus fiddled with the crumpled collar of his robes self-consciously.

"You're bending like a blade of grass under his foot, Remus. Don't be so bloody-"

"I'm not going to fight with you about Sirius, India-Rose," Remus said firmly, easing her fingers gently away from his arm. He squeezed her hand softly but she wrenched it away, livid.

"Fine," she snapped. "Go coddle your bloody _Padfoot_. Let me know if he offers you the _slightest_ bit of comfort in return. And if he does, I'll personally apologise to the both of you."

Remus let out a futile gasp of frustration, but India-Rose was already stalking back to the rest of the seventh year girls.

Wendy offered him a timid, wet smile of an apology. Lizzie was staring in his direction, but her pale green eyes were so vacant he had a curious feeling she wasn't seeing him at all. He spared a glance at India-Rose, who seemed to be only half aware of Lily speaking to her, her knotted red hair clinging in strands to her tear sticky face.

The walk to the dormitories was silent but for the soft pad of Remus' footsteps, and when he opened the door to his dormitory for a brief moment it appeared empty. He paused in the doorway before his eyes fell on the figure slumped in the windowsill, his limbs folded together and his grumpy expression glaring straight at the grey stone in front of him.

Remus walked calmly over to his friend, carefully tapping Sirius' legs, which were swung around with a grumpy huff to hang over the edge of the windowsill, leaving room for Remus to hop up next to him.

When it became clear Sirius was not going to initiate a conversation, Remus did it for him.

"You know, this might not be what you want to hear right now, but I'm pretty impressed with Peter."

To Remus' surprise Sirius' irritable expression split into a grin.

"Didn't think he had it in him, to be honest."

"Me neither," Remus mused, finally catching Sirius' eye. Sirius, however, quickly averted his gaze. "He'll be alright, you know."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do. James is too stubborn to be anything other than alright."

"You think?"

"Sirius," Remus said firmly, fixing his friend with a knowledgeable look that Sirius smiled weakly at.

"I suppose you're right."

"You're damn right I am."

"Ouch, language Moony. I hope you don't speak that way in front of Miss Norrell."

Remus looked down at his knees, disgruntled at the mention of his girlfriend. Her words rang loudly in his head, but he allowed Sirius to drown them out as best as he could.

"What a stupid bastard. And _don't _get me started on Swindon. Did you see her? Nearly fell off her broom just trying to get _over _to him, stupid bint."

Remus threw Sirius a reproaching expression, but said nothing.

"What was he _thinking_? What was he going to do? I can't believe he'd be so bloody stupid, flying over there like that. What the bloody hell was he thinking?"

"He wasn't," Remus said quietly. "You _saw _Marianna…you saw what happened. They all flew straight to her. Nobody was thinking."

Sirius pressed his face hard into his palms. The slap of skin on skin was heavy and loud. "What a mess," he muttered between shuddering breaths.

"It can't have been…" Remus began softly, more to himself than to his friend.

"Can't have been what?" Sirius sneered. "Can't have been those cowardly little snakes who are feeling a bit peeved about this?" Sirius jabbed his own chest hard as he hissed under his breath. "I beg to differ, Remus. I beg to bloody differ."

"This is too much," Remus disagreed, shaking his head reluctantly. "That was, that was powerful magic, Sirius. I mean, _bludgers_. And they, you saw, I mean-"

"This shouldn't be happening here," Sirius agreed. "Not at Hogwarts."

"It shouldn't be happening _anywhere_."

Remus looked up to see Sirius' sharp grey eyes watching him with apathetic curiosity. For a moment the older boy looked ready to leave, to get up and walk away from the glassy shine of Remus' eyes and the tremble in his shoulders. But the moment passed, and Sirius' hand found his friend's shoulder with a small, comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry I grabbed you."

"I'm sorry I, well," Remus faltered, wondering exactly what he'd done wrong. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sirius' lips twitch in a smirk. "You know what? I'm not sorry. You shouldn't have grabbed me."

"I know."

"Good. Well, that's ok then."

Remus tugged at the collar of his robes, disgruntled. Sirius laughed, and the sound was empty, lost in the air between them.

* * *

**Saturday 1.25 pm**

"Please take a seat, Sebastian."

"Thank you, Albus. I'd prefer to stand."

"Sebastian," Albus Dumbledore said, fixing the man before him with a stern gaze. He gestured again to the seat on the other side of his desk. Sebastian Potter sat reluctantly, visibly tense on the comfortable, padded chair. "I know you are worried about James, Sebastian. But I promise you he is receiving the very best aid Miriam Worrell has to offer. She treated yourself, did she not, when she was a Healer at St Mungo's?"

Sebastian did not admit or deny such an acquaintance with the woman, but instead glared hard and expectantly at the Headmaster, whose twinkling eyes offered nothing but the kindest of comforts.

"How did this happen, Albus?"

"Do not ask me questions you know I cannot answer, Sebastian," was Albus' weary reply. Beneath the kindly smile, the older wizard was tired despite the early hours of the afternoon.

Sebastian's jaw clicked impatiently and his eyes steeled like a hawk.

"You _assured _me that intervention would not be needed within the school, Albus," Sebastian bellowed, and accusation dripped from his words like poison from a wielded blade. "I made every effort to keep the Aurors _out _of Hogwarts affairs under the promise that it would not be needed. And now…" Sebastian's anger cracked into a wrenched growl of fear, wordless and primal.

The air of the Headmaster's office was pleasant and cool, and everything appeared to glow softly, as if touched by fingertips of sunlight though no windows could be seen. It felt as if the very walls breathed a calm rhythm.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian muttered. "I know you would never – it's just I never – I never expected-"

"You look tired," Albus commented lightly, his voice free of accusation but Sebastian ducked his head a little anyway. How did his old Headmaster _still _have the power to make him feel like a teenager all over again?

He let out a short chuckle. "It's been a long, err, two days."

"You don't have to do this, Sebastian," Albus said firmly. "Leave this for someone else to do. You've got more than enough to think about as it is."

Sebastian opened his mouth to insist resolutely that he was perfectly capable of taking charge of this investigation, but a knowing look from Albus surprised him into brief silence.

"How do you know…" Sebastian scowled. "I was unaware you were privy to the details of the missions of the Ministry's Auror department, Albus."

"Sebastian," Albus smiled, as if asking for a little credit from his former pupil. The younger man did not share his amusement.

"How did you find out, Albus? Who told you? _Nobody _was supposed to-"

"Your security has not been breached, Sebastian. Do not worry. I take it you haven't told James yet?"

"You mustn't say a word to him, Albus. I will tell him myself when the time is right."

"I won't."

Thunder clouds rumbled in the depths of Sebastian's stare. He leaned towards the desk, where he rested an elbow heavily.

"I've asked a lot of James over the years. Maybe too much. And he's been more understanding than most kids his age would be."

"He understands, Sebastian-"

"He shouldn't have to! And he shouldn't be lying in a hospital bed with a broken…" Sebastian pressed his fingers into his closed eyes hard, as if attempting to force the growing headache away with sheer will.

Albus stood abruptly, sweeping around his desk and taking the younger man by the arm, encouraging him to stand.

"Where is Jacinta?"

"I think Minerva was taking her to Gryffindor Tower. She was going to try find Sirius. We wanted to visit him while he was laid up, too, but there just wasn't the time. He wrote to her, you know. Told her not to worry about visiting, so long as she sent him an apple pie."

They shared a fond, melancholy smile.

"Your wife does bake quite the delectable apple pie," Albus agreed.

"Any more news on his case, anyway?" Sebastian asked as he allowed himself to be ushered to the door.

"Nothing," Albus replied grimly. "But that isn't for you to worry about. Go to the hospital wing. See your son. Leave this to Rob Morretty and the others."

"Albus," Sebastian paused in the doorway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, to _accuse _you or anything."

"It is forgotten, Sebastian," Albus waved his hand as if dispelling the last smoky clouds of ill feeling from the air around them. "Go. Perhaps your son and Miss Swindon will have woken by the time you reach them."

* * *

**Saturday 4.37 pm**

"Lily Evans, I swear in the name of Merlin if you do not sit down this instant I am going to take that wand off you and shove it up your-"

"Did you see her? Oh god, Liz, I can't believe I…I have never been so mortified in my _life_."

"It was fine, Lily. You were fine. Look, Hektor agrees with me."

Lizzie, who had been snuggling into her pillows with Lily's cat tightly nestled into her chest, took hold of the kitten's paw and waggled it playfully. Tiny, blunted teeth pinched at her hand with a small rumbling purr.

"No he does not," Lily grumbled, throwing herself onto the bed beside her friend and tickling the kitten under his chin.

Hektor let out a whining yawn, and when Lizzie shifted beneath him he yelped loudly.

"Yes he does, he says _Oh Lily, don't worry, it doesn't matter that you mistook James' mummy for his grandmummy, she didn't mind_."

"Don't, please don't, I didn't – that's not what I – I never said-"

"Well yeah, but it was pretty obvious that's what you were _going _to say, Lilykins," Lizzie cackled, loud enough to scare Hektor into leaping from her chest, where he scampered over to Lily's bed and laid claim to her pillow.

The last trembles of embarrassment still shook in Lily's frame, and Lizzie reached out to pull her close, as if perhaps hoping to replace the cat with her friend. Lily buried her crimson face into Lizzie's shoulder and wailed despairingly.

Lizzie smiled, running her fingers through her friend's hair. As humiliating as the experience had been for the poor redhead, Lizzie was glad to see something distract her from her worries about James and Juliette.

After a moment of gentle rocking Lily's muffled voice vibrated through Lizzie's shoulder.

"What was that?" the blonde hummed, trying desperately to hide the smile from her face. She failed, however, and Lily scowled as she caught sight of the expression.

"Did _you _know his mum and dad were, you know, older?"

"Yes. And so did you, Lily dear."

"Yeah. But I just, I forgot! You know? Oh god, she looked like she wanted to curse me."

"No, she _looked _like she wanted to laugh at you. And then kind of like she wanted to hug you. It was really quite funny you know."

Lily pulled hard at a clump of Lizzie's hair.

"Ouch!"

"Stop it. It wasn't funny at all."

"Oh cheer up. The poor woman's son is laid up in hospital and even _she _managed to crack a smile at it."

Guilt flashed over Lily's face, sudden and sharp, and Lizzie winced. She released the redhead from the joking grip she had her in, settling for offering the girl a warm embrace – which Lily accepted with a slow, steady breath.

"When do you think they'll let us see them?"

"Oh, tomorrow I expect," Lizzie said breezily. "Maybe Monday. You know what Madam Worrell's like."

Lily sniffed.

"Are you snotting all over my robes, Evans?"

"No, I-"

"Oh whatever. What's a little mucus between friends, eh?"

"You're disgusting, Lizzie."

The blonde grinned, tapping a light rhythm on the girl's shoulders.

"You love me."

"I do."

"You love James."

"I…"

Lily's head snapped up. Her glittering emerald eyes were apprehensive and guarded, but Lizzie's returning stare was unyielding.

"I won't tell a soul."

* * *

**Saturday 10.43 pm**

The hospital wing was dark, its muggy silence oppressive and strong.

Juliette Swindon awoke with a start. Her eyelids flew open, the terror in her eyes overwhelming as if still the hard fingers of the nightmare held her fast in their grip. But like the gasp in her throat the moment passed, and a warm, generous presence appeared by her side in seconds.

"It's alright sweetheart, I'm here. You're safe. You're ok."

The overpowering motherly presence was too sudden, too unexpected, and tears spilled past her eyelashes, unbidden and despised.

"Juliette? Sweetheart, it's ok. It's ok. That's it, take my hand. That's it. Are you in pain?"

Jacinta Potter was barely whispering, barely breathing, but her voice was loud in the young brunette's ears. Juliette thought about it briefly, as slowly she became aware of the body attached to her spinning head, and felt the heavy pulsing of Madam Worrell's magic working its way through her very veins. She nodded.

"Here, Madam Worrell left this for you to finish if you woke up. It's still warm."

In the festering gloom the rim of a goblet was pressed gently to her lips, and a potion, tickly, its scent badly masked with seasoned herbs, trickled in a thready, unpleasant gloop past her lips. She grimaced into the cup, and Jacinta replied with a sympathetic noise.

"I know, sweetheart, but you need it. There was a lot of magic in those bludgers. We need to make sure it's all cleared out of you."

Once the last drops had been swallowed, and Juliette's battle against her gag reflex came to a gulping end, the goblet was placed back on the bedside table with a soft _clunk_.

"I'm going to go tell Madam Worrell you're awake. She might be able to give you something to help you sleep, alright?"

Jacinta was gone before the girl could even think of nodding.

Juliette stared around her as best as she could, eyeing the filled beds and the sleeping occupants of them. Finally her roaming eyes reached the end of the line, but the final bed was empty. The sheets were still crumpled and unmade, the mattress dipping in the middle with a certain _slept in _look about it, but the bed was decidedly empty.

A second gasp, louder this time, left her lips and echoed, lonely in the dark. She struggled to sit up to see, to understand, but her arm was throbbing so terribly, pain shooting down from her broken shoulder bone to the limp tips of her fingers, and still-

"St. Mungo's," a voice spoke abruptly into the dark.

Juliette's head jerked to the side, jostling her bandages and she winced, gritting her teeth.

James was staring up at the ceiling, his shoulders and neck braced to prevent him making the same mistake Juliette had just unwittingly made, and his tall, lanky frame was so still she'd have thought him asleep if not for his wide, bright eyes flickering to and fro across the ceiling, as if watching some strange dance above him that only he could observe.

"What?" Juliette whispered. James swallowed clumsily.

"They took him to St. Mungo's. I was awake. Heard his parents talking. And Worrell. And Dumbledore."

"Took who?" Juliette asked uncertainly, and through the dark she could just about see James' lips twitch.

"Kendell. S'who you were looking for, wasn't it?"

She was grateful for the kind dark, concealing her blush so well.

"Oh. Thanks."

"No problem."

"Has anyone else…"

"No. Just him. And Marianna." Her name seemed to catch on his tongue, and his voice twisted around it awkwardly.

"You did the best you could, James," Juliette said knowingly. "There was nothing else to do."

"Thank you," James interrupted. Juliette frowned.

"It's true, you were-"

"No, I mean, thanks. For out there. You didn't… I owe you one."

Juliette grunted disparagingly.

"Go to sleep, Potter."

"Jules, really, I-"

Footsteps padded softly from Madam Worrell's office, and the hot, minty scent of sleeping draught wafted through the room.

"Go to sleep, Potter," Juliette whispered again as Jacinta Potter approached. "You don't owe me anything."


	27. Temporary Permanence

**A/N  
**_Late late late I know. I'm sorry. Many thanks to PurplePenguin13MI, RJamesL, silverbirch, MissDemigodWizard, Guest, A Potterhead, and musbethenargles for your encouraging reviews. I can say with all honesty this is the first chance I've had to update, and that I do still intend to keep this story alive. This chapter is shorter than I intended, but I'm starting on the next one right now. I hope you enjoy this story.  
_

_ALSO: I need to add in the extra warning now that things are going to be less canon than I'd like, because JKR has given us so much new information (thank you Pottermore) that I can't keep up, and some of it does conflict with what I have planned for future chapters. As such, when I say canon I mean 100%(ish) canon with the books, and I will try my best to stay true to any extra information JKR has given us._

**26. Temporary Permanence**

_**Of hospital visits, stupid boys, and gagging noises.**_

After the horrors of Saturday's Quidditch match it had seemed to the students of Hogwarts that normalcy would perhaps never be achieved again. Sunday had been a day of anxiety and tears and arguments and fears laid bare that could be found not only in the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff houses, but throughout Hogwarts: from the very youngest first year right the way to Professor Dumbledore himself.

But dawn on Monday morning brought with it the usual breakfast in the Great Hall, with lessons to attend and friends to greet and joke with. Normalcy, apparently, was a resilient force among the students of Hogwarts. Whispers were frequent, but quieter than they had been the day before, and significantly less venomous.

Angry words became tender comforts, as Madam Worrell announced that each student in the Hospital Wing would be allowed one visitor at a time for a maximum of half an hour.

Unfortunately, the fleeting joy felt by the seventh year Gryffindors delighting at the chance to see their friends again was soon dispelled by a pressing issue. Of the seven Gryffindors, which two were the most deserving of being granted first entry to the Hospital Wing to visit James and Juliette?

"Well that's obvious," Sirius barked over his plate of bacon and fried eggs. "Evans, you up for it?"

Lily blinked in surprise, and her eyes flashed with momentary glee before looking shyly among the group.

"Well I'd really like to-"

"Don't be daft," Lizzie grinned, munching happily on a thick sandwich that was dripping sauce back into her plate. "Of course you're going first."

Lily shoved a forkful of mushrooms into her mouth, trying her best not to look too pleased with herself. When her worried eyes lingered on the rest of the group guiltily, the blonde shook her head.

"No, really Lily, you're going. I'm sick to death of your mopey face already. Go. See Jules, talk to James. Grant the rest of us a little peace, for pity's sake."

Satisfied with the dark pink tinge in her friend's cheeks, Lizzie glanced around at the others looking for backup, but paused at the sight of Remus and India-Rose muttering under their breaths at one another, their eyes never leaving their plates. Sensing the tension rolling from India-Rose, Lizzie quickly turned back to Lily to tease her a little more, but the argument between the couple escalated as India-Rose shifted visibly in her seat.

"Something wrong?" Sirius drawled, his eyes dancing with intrigue. Remus shook his head at his friend darkly, but finally India-Rose looked up. Her lips were twisted into a displeased grimace.

"I think Remus should go with Lily."

"No, you don't-"

"Excuse me? _Don't _tell me what I do or do not think," India-Rose hissed at her boyfriend. Remus cringed, clearly aware of the eyes of their friends drawn to them with unabashed interest. "I think Remus and Lily should visit them first."

"Oh yeah?" Sirius snorted. His quick, cold gaze flitted to Remus as he grinned, expecting to share his amusement with his friend, but to his surprise Remus was watching him curiously, almost expectantly. Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "Well it doesn't make a difference, does it?"

"Well in that case Remus can go first, can't he?" India-Rose asked with an icy smile.

A nervous laugh rippled through the group of seventh years.

"I see," Sirius said coolly, and his eyes darkened as he turned to his friend, though his smile remained dangerously frozen. "And what does Remus think?"

* * *

"Mother, this is ridiculous. Juliette is sitting up. I absolutely refuse –"

"Oh you do, do you? James Potter, twenty-four hours ago we thought you'd broken your bloody back. You are staying where you are even if I have to knock you unconscious to keep you that way!"

James scowled up at his mother as she leaned over him, brushing aside a tuft of hair that seemed glued into shape over his forehead. He could feel Juliette's smirk from the next bed over, but it seemed that repeatedly thinking the word _incendio _with increasing malice was not enough to set fire to the magically locked brace currently pinning him to his mattress.

"And you can shut up, Juliette Swindon, don't think I –"

"Don't you talk to Juliette that way you _stupid_ boy. Now lie there and don't you _dare_ move," Jacinta Potter snapped, her eyes clouded as she turned away to look for Madam Worrell, who was attending to Isobel Cole of Hufflepuff, whose soft featured, tan face was bright red with concentration as the healer poked and prodded at her swollen right knee.

As his mother disappeared from his limited line of vision James let out of a guilty groan, wiggling his toes beneath the covers, which at the moment felt like the only part of his body free of the restraining spells of Madam Worrell.

"Try not to aggravate your mother, James."

"Dad!" James yelped, eyes spinning in their sockets as he tried in vain to catch a glimpse of his father. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to realise neither of us give your mum the credit she deserves. I had no idea you were such a bad patient."

"Yeah, well I learnt from the best," James retorted grumpily. Juliette's laughter was badly stifled, and he guessed his father had pulled a face at the accusation. James smiled triumphantly.

"You gave us quite a scare, young man," Sebastian Potter said sternly, and his lined face abruptly came into view. James blinked, wincing at the dark bruising shadows beneath his father's eyes. "And that brace of yours is magically enhanced. Stop trying to set fire to it. I'd hate for you to be rescued from mad bludgers only to have you burn yourself to death."

"I wasn't –"

"You were mu-tt-er-ing," Juliette said in a sing-song voice that James scowled at.

"I was doing no such thing."

"James, I appreciate that this is all very frustrating. But that was some dark magic that damaged those bludgers enough to lose control like that. You're going to need to stay here for a while, ok?"

James grimaced at the heavy fingers that rested gently on his head, running tenderly through his hair, but he could not begrudge the anxious look in his father's eyes.

"Have you found anything yet?" he asked hopefully."

"Nothing," Sebastian grumbled. "Rob's still working on it with the others. He sent me to get some sleep."

"You're not sleeping."

"Smart arse," Sebastian grinned. "I'm glad to see all that money we spend on your education hasn't gone to waste."

"You don't pay to go to Hogwarts, dad."

"No? And who exactly buys all those books and robes and other school things for you every summer?"

James blushed ruefully.

"You really haven't found anything?"

Juliette's disembodied voice sounded disgruntled. If he looked as far to his left as possible James could just about make out her slumped frame, propped up by an excess of pillows as she fiddled with a goblet of juice.

"By the looks of it the bludgers were attracted to body heat," Sebastian said with a shrug that he did not even attempt to disguise as casual. "That's why they…"

"Kept hitting us," James finished with gritted teeth.

"Y – huh, hmm, yeah," Sebastian cleared his throat. "Once they found a uh, a mark, they attacked it until something else obstructed their path. That's why you could only help that young girl –"

"-Marianna-"

"– by flying right in front of her, James."

James frowned, his lips parting but his mouth was inexplicably dry. A warm smile graced his father's troubled expression, and his fingers tightened ever so slightly in his hair.

"Your mum talked to your friends last night. They told her everything. I'd do anything to never have to see you hurt again, James. But I _am_ proud of you."

James' smile was shaky, and unsure of his voice he mouthed a small _thank you_. Sebastian rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and sniffed loudly.

"Just _don't _do it again," he ordered, pointing his finger close enough to James' nose to force a bemused, cross-eyed expression onto his son's face.

James blushed, and a knowing smile glittered behind his eyes.

"Ok dad," he mumbled. "I won't. I promise."

Father and son laughed nervously together. The unspoken inevitabilities lingered between them, heavy and known.

* * *

"Is everything all right with you and Remus?"

Sirius wondered briefly whether or not he could get away with pretending he hadn't heard Lily's question. Considering they were walking down an empty corridor, and she had spoken reasonably loudly, he supposed not. Instead he huffed loudly, making his reluctance to start this conversation known.

"Everything's fine, Evans. Why on earth wouldn't it be?"

"Sirius," Lily said with a blank expression that seemed to pierce Sirius' bravado all too easily. He brushed her aside with a scathing leer.

"I think you'll find _Remus _isn't the problem, Flower. It's your little friend Indy-Rosie that's mucking everyone around."

"She is not," Lily said indignantly. "And don't call her that."

"Exc_use_ me?" Sirius scoffed. "Did you _see _her at breakfast?"

Lily braved a sideways glance at the boy. His frame was rigid with anger, and she quickly looked away for fear of being burned by his stare.

"You don't have to rise to the bait."

"Spare me," Sirius snapped, speeding up towards the Hospital Wing.

"Sirius, what else do you want me to say? Yes, India-Rose was out of line? She didn't do anything wrong. The argument was between Remus and India-Rose. _You _decided to involve yourself. _You _put yourself in the firing line."

She chased after the boy half a step behind him all the way to the doors of the Hospital Wing, where students were milling impatiently, anxious to be allowed inside. Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Lily's raised eyebrows shut him up promptly.

They share their awkward anticipation as they listen to a group of Hufflepuff seventh years discussing their friend Isobel Cole, the Hufflepuff Seeker whom Lily remembered seeing hit the ground hard in a flurry of yellow and black as her broom sped up into the sky without her.

Biting her lips together hard, Lily closed her ears to the rest of their conversation as the Hospital Wing doors opened and Madam Worrell appeared, looking harassed.

"Now, I understand you are all very anxious to see your friends, but I cannot emphasise enough to each and every one of you the importance of calm and peaceful quiet, do you understand me?"

As one, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs nodded eagerly. Lily startled at a hand wrapping gently around her elbow, and turned to see a fleeting moment of something guilty and apologetic in Sirius' expression. The expression was soon lost, but his hand stayed soft and firm on her arm.

"You will have half an hour, and by that I mean _thirty minutes_," she stressed with a stern eye. Sirius glanced down at his shoes, hiding the twitch of a smirk in his face. "On you go. And be gentle, your friends are still healing."

In an eerie, bustling silence the visitors filed into the Hospital Wing, eyeing the occupied beds nervously. The serenity was stifling, and Lily wondered how their two boisterous friends had coped so long in this intense stupor.

But the spell was broken by a loud shriek of _"LILY!"_ and much to the clucking dismay of Madam Worrell, laughter and shouting abruptly broke out among the students, both the visiting and visited alike. Lily rushed to Juliette, mindful of her friend's right arm as she buried her face in the girl's matted dark curls.

"You crazy girl," Lily cried, relief flooding her expression. "I can't believe –"

"Oh, stop it," Juliette cut in with an impatient scowl. "You're going to sound like James if you finish that sentence, and I've had it up to here with him." She waved her left hand as high above her head as she could reach, and together the girls turned to the bed next to Juliette's, where James was staring wide eyed up at his best friend as Sirius unleashed upon him torrent of furious anxiety.

Lily grinned as she noticed James' toes twitching with fright under the covers.

"He's alright," she breathed under her breath, but Juliette, spotting the redhead's eye line, choked and spluttered.

"_Surely _they told you that at least?"

"Oh, yes," Lily blushed under Juliette's bewildered gaze. "But I wanted to see for myself."

"He'll be fine," Juliette waved her hand airily, but Lily could read the joy in her dark eyes. "Granted he doesn't drive his mother to filicide before the week's out, that is."

"Is she still here?" Lily said abruptly, her wide eyes staring about the room as if expecting to catch Mrs Potter hiding in a corner.

"She's coming back later," Juliette replied with a curious grin. "Why? Don't tell you're afraid of big bad Jacinta Potter? Baker of apple pies and mother of the world's most spoiled Potter piglet?"

Lily admonished her friend with a look.

"Oh stop it. You can't stick up for him until you've officially kissed and made up. Which you haven't done yet, madam."

"How do _you _know that?"

"Because you're still talking to me. And you've had no time."

"We could've done it before the match."

"Did you?"

"Well, not exactly. But we could have done."

"Could have done what?" Sirius barked. The two girls turned to the boys with innocent smiles. Sirius was staring with intrusive eagerness at them, while James' eyes strained to see far enough to the side, his face still pointing towards the ceiling. "You alright, Swindon?"

"Fine and dandy, Black," Juliette replied sweetly.

"Umm, James? Are you alright?" Lily asked hesitantly as James' cheeks slowly turned puce in his vain attempt to swivel his head.

"He's not allowed to move until Madam Worrell is certain the damage to his spine is fixed. He's been sulking since Saturday evening."

"I have not!" James said abruptly, and a little louder than expected. He scowled at Sirius' derisive snort. "Well, I can get rid of the brace tomorrow. Then I'm allowed to move."

"_Maybe_," Juliette reminded him, but the smile on her face softened with worry. She glanced pointedly at Lily, who hopped off her friend's bed as if burned by the covers and with twitchy fingers moved over to James' bed.

Sirius sidled over to Juliette's bed, his eyes never leaving the couple even as he perched awkwardly near the brunette's feet.

"Off my bed, Black."

"You can't make me."

"I can have you thrown out for disturbing my peaceful resting."

Sirius stood back up with a scowl.

"How's everyone?" Juliette asked as loudly as she dared, her eyes narrowing when Sirius refused to turn his attention from his best friend's whispered conversation. "Oi! How's Wendy? Peter? How's Remus?"

"What?" Sirius' gaze was ripped from the happy couple to glare accusingly at Juliette. "He's fine. Why would you ask that? Why wouldn't he be fine?"

"I don't know," Juliette said slowly, baffled by Sirius defensive anger. "I just haven't seen them all since Saturday morning."

"Well everyone's _fine and dandy_, thanks," Sirius snapped.

"Fantastic," Juliette replied icily before clamping her mouth shut, turning instead to stare at the empty bed at the end of the row where Hufflepuff's Chaser had previously slept, now freshly made as if it had never been occupied.

"They'll run out of things to argue about one day," Lily whispered to James. She was kneeling on the floor so they could speak in undertones, aware of Sirius' watchful eye but determined not to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him.

"One day," James rolled his eyes with a smile. "When we're all old and grey and one of them _dies _mid argument. Yeah, _maybe_ then."

"Are you sure? What if they come back as ghosts just to keep arguing?"

"Don't even say it," James begged, groaning under his breath.

Lily shifted higher onto her knees, leaning up and meeting his eye. Her smile was bright and warm and _right there_. James smiled back, grateful when she reached to wrap both her hands around one of his.

"I was thinking we could try again," Lily said abruptly. Her smile was still bright, still confident, but a worry line creased her forehead.

She ducked her head when James' smile widened, and a lock of dark red hair fell from behind her ear and dangled in front of her face. Unwilling to let go of James' hands, Lily blew it out of the way, only for it to fall back again.

"I know it's a boyfriend's prerogative to do nice things like fix your hair," James said with a guilty smirk. "But Madam Worrell's kind of charmed the brace to stop me moving anything above my knees."

Lily's laughter was loud and welcome.

"Well, aren't you the romantic," she said with a grin, tucking her hair back behind her ear with one hand and with the other squeezing his fingers, which just about managed to wiggle back into her palm. "I know it's a girlfriend's prerogative to do nice things like kiss you better," Lily continued. "But I might get thrown out of the Hospital Wing by Madam Worrell for overexciting one of her patients –"

"Is that Sirius making gagging noises?" James interrupted, cringing.

Lily glanced over her shoulder, and when she turned back her cheeks were bright red.

"No, that's Juliette. Sirius is making, umm, gestures."

"Maybe one day they'll get married. Then they can just argue in the isolation of their own home."

* * *

"You're going to have to talk to me eventually, you know."

"Don't be so sure about that India-Rose Norrell."

Remus' lips twitched into a mischievous smile as he spoke, but his eyes remained stubbornly grave as he glanced sideways at his girlfriend, who was making no attempt to conceal her lack of productivity, quills scattered across the table and wand forgotten beneath several sheets of blotted parchment.

India-Rose rolled her eyes with a scowl.

"_Some_one has to stick up for you against that pig-headed-"

"What is your problem, India-Rose?" Remus hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously as the librarian Madam Switt stalked up and down the bookshelves, the click of her heels slow and sharp in the near silence. "You've _never _had a problem with Sirius before. Not like this. You need to stop being absolutely rid_ic_ulous-"

"I know, I know," India-Rose huffed. "But I never noticed how, how self centred he is. I don't know how you put up with him. Or _why_?"

"For the love of Merlin, India-Rose. You're starting to sound like Juliette."

"_Juliette_?" India-Rose growled under her breath. "_Juli – _Remus, you know, it's not entirely out of the realms of possibility that I care about you enough to argue with you. That maybe I want what's best for _you_. You, and not your friends. Is that ok?"

"Can we just agree to disagree on this one, India-Rose? I will argue with Sirius in my own time if I feel the need arises. I promise you."

The resignation on India-Rose's face, her flushed cheeks and bright eyes alive and beautiful, gripped something deep in Remus' chest. He could see, more clearly than her anger and frustration, a hard love that he'd been trying very hard to ignore for some time. It seemed every time he tried to delay that shuttering, childlike panic he felt under the stare this girl's sapphire eyes, it grew only stronger.

For a moment he wanted to tell her the truth. He could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, just how much he loved her.

But her eyes returned to her essay. The weight of the full moon's approach weighed his own gaze downwards, too, and he remained silent.

* * *

If it could be said that one good thing had come of Saturday's Quidditch match (not that anyone dared to voice such a notion) it was that a strange new togetherness now bonded the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs. They were connected, now, by the horrors of tragedy, and while like all house alliances within Hogwarts' walls it would no doubt last less than a few weeks, in the still fresh wake of the incident both parties felt the pull of mutual victimisation acutely.

In light of this generally accepted friendship between the two houses, Peter found it much easier to walk boldly towards a small girl, her face hiding behind locks of dirty blonde hair, and take a seat beside her with a friendly smile.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," Ruth Saldana replied meekly, looking around as if worried they were being watched. "How are you?"

"Ok. Yeah, I'm ok, thanks. What about you?" Peter cursed inwardly at how breathless he sounded, and tried to press down his nerves by clenching his fists on the tops of his thighs. It was difficult to keep calm, however, because he could feel Sirius' eyes watching him the desk nearest to the window, where he sat alone.

"Good. Yes. Thanks. Much better."

"That's good," Peter smiled encouragingly, and was rewarded with a smile from the girl as she blushed and fiddled with her quill. "Were you at the match on Saturday?"

"No, no I wasn't." She looked pleased at this. "How's your friend James? He was one of the ones that was hurt, wasn't he?"

Ruth looked briefly embarrassed, as if afraid of upsetting Peter, but he kept his smile and thought back to only an hour earlier, when he'd managed to get into the Hospital Wing with Lizzie and see both his best friend and Juliette looking equally weary but, thankfully, pain-free.

"Yes, he was. He's getting better, though. Bored with the Hospital Wing already, I think. Did you manage to do the essay?"

Ruth shrugged half heartedly, running her index finger over the scribbles of her essay. "It was easy enough."

"I still haven't got the hang of potency charms. I wrote the essay, but I still don't really get it." His self-deprecating smile pulled a gentle laugh from Ruth's lips, and she glanced at his essay, which was half a roll of parchment shorter than her own. Her laughter stirred something in Peter, a braveness not easily conjured, and he steeled his nerves. "Ruth," he said firmly, capturing her complete and silent attention. Her smile faltered, but did not leave her entirely. "Would you please, if you like, go to Hogsmeade with me on the next weekend trip?

For the briefest of moments the air around Peter's head crackled and deafened him, the rumbling roar of regret and humiliation shook the room, which began to spin, it was all clear now, he'd misinterpreted her all along, her smile was pitying, she wasn't interested, of course, how silly of him, how could possibly think –

"I'd love to," Ruth said, hesitant eagerness bursting from her, sweeter than her laugh.

"You would?"

She grinned at his bafflement.

"I really would."

Her nod was more reassuring than Peter could have possibly hoped for. He scratched a hand through his sandy hair, awkwardly excited.

"Well, that's great. Yeah. Great."

Emboldened by his request, and by her own answer, Ruth's voice strengthened. She looked even prettier in her newfound confidence.

"Have you heard about the new café that's opening up the high street in Hogsmeade? It's supposed to be quite nice. We could go there if you like?"

As he replied, an unfamiliar fluttering sensation in his stomach, Peter glanced momentarily over Ruth's shoulder to see Sirius still watching. His smirk was as wide and conceited as ever, and he looked ready to laugh. But Peter could sense his sincerity when he nodded proudly at him, throwing him a brief thumbs up before returning his eyes to the front of the class, where Professor Flitwick was getting ready to begin the lesson.


End file.
